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THE  GOVERNOR’S  WIFE 


Madame  Junot 


The 

Governor’s  Wife 

PICTURES  FROM  THE  IMPERIAL 
COURT  OF  FRANCE  :::  1806-1807 


By 

MATHILDA  MALLING 


TRANSLATED  BY 

HENRIETTE  LANGAA  ST.JOHN 


NEW  YORK 

THOMAS  M.  ST.  JOHN 

1904 


WS,5‘4  ft 


Copyright,  1904,  by 
THOMAS  M.  ST.  JOHN 

Registered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London,  England 
[Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America] 

All  rights  reserved 


THE  GOVERNOR’S  WIFE 


Car  mon  coeur  abondait  en  souvenirs  fideles. 

Dans  notre  ciel  sinistre  et  sur  nos  tristes  jours 
Ton  noble  esprit  planait  avec  de  nobles  ailes, 
Comme  un  aigle  souvent,  comme  un  ange  toujours. 

Victor  Hugo 

(a,  Mme.  Junot). 


77184 


I 

\ 


1 


■J.jA"- 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


I 


Junot  remplit  aujourd’hui  la  premiere 
place  aupr^s  de  moi  aprSs  Berthier — 
savez-vous  le,  Madame  la  Gouvemeuse  ? 
NAPOLfioN  ^  Mme.  Junot  (1806). 


ADAME  Junot  was  small,  slender,  and 
lithe,  and  she  always  carried  her  head 
high.  She  wore  her  dark,  chestnut- 
brown  hair  gathered  in  ringlets  high  upon  her 
head;  and  over  them  she  wore  a  golden  band, 
set  with  three  pearls.  Her  rich,  dark  complex¬ 
ion  reminded  one  of  an  Oriental’s;  her  eyes  met 
yours  with  a  sure,  undaunted  glance,  in  which 
there  was  the  gleam  of  a  true  soul. 

As  she  moved  with  slow  Uvssurance  down  the 
broad  stairs  of  the  castle — the  beautiful  Rainey, 
of  which  she  was  the  mistress — it  was  evident 
that  Madame  Junot  was  enceinte. 

The  November  day  was  clear  and  cool.  The 
afternoon  sun  gilded  the  copper  roof  of  the  cas- 


77184 


1 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

tie,  and  threw  a  magnificent  red  glow  over  the 
fall-yellow  poplars  whose  slender  trunks  striped 
the  driveway  with  their  shadows. 

A  cavalcade  of  gentlemen,  in  various  military 
costumes,  came  galloping  into  the  courtyard, 
and  drew  rein  to  pay  its  respects  to  the  chief  oc¬ 
cupant  of  the  carriage  that  followed  at  a  rapid 
pace.  Then,  as  if  by  magic,  the  riders  filled  the 
place,  making  it  echo  with  their  gay  laughter 
and  with  the  rattle  of  their  spurs. 

With  hat  in  hand,  and  with  the  red  glow  of 
the  sun  upon  his  heavy,  blond  hair,  the  Gov¬ 
ernor  of  Paris  stepped  to  the  carriage  and  wel¬ 
comed,  to  his  Eaincy,  Princess  Caroline  Murat, 
the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve,  the  sister 
of  the  great  E'apoleon.  In  turn,  she  smiled  con¬ 
descendingly  on  Junot,  and,  lightly  pressing 
his  hand,  she  received  the  greetings  of  his  wife, 
who  treated  her  distinguished  guest  with  all  the 
formality  dictated  by  court  etiquette  and  with 
the  graciousness  of  a  lady. 

The  Princess  had  come  to  hunt  at  Eaincy — had 
come,  in  fact,  to  show  herself  to  General  and 
Madame  Junot,  who  had  been  acquaintances  of 
earlier  days,  and  under  different  conditions. 
She  could  not,  however,  lay  aside  the  forced. 


2 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


sarcastic  tone  which  had  become  habitual  with 
her  since  she  received  the  title  of  Princess,  as 
she  addressed  her  hostess: 

‘‘Madame  la  ‘  Gouverneuse'  de  Paris  (as  my 
brother,  the  Emperor,  calls  you),  are  you  not  to 
ride  with  us  to-day  ?  You,  with  your  figure, 
would  make  an  excellent  Amazon.” 

Madame  Junot  smiled  conventionally  as  she 
followed  the  Princess  up  the  stairs,  and  took 
no  notice  of  the  rough  edge  of  her  remark, 
answering  : 

“Your  Imperial  Highness  will  remember,  per¬ 
haps,  that  my  husband — possibly  with  too  much 
care  for  me — has  denied  me  the  pleasure  of  shar¬ 
ing  in  the  hunt.” 

“What  a  tender  husband  you  are,  Junot!” 
said  the  Princess.  “Here  is  your  wife  insisting 
that  you  have  forbidden  her  to  ride.  Well, 
let  Prince  Joachim  try  that  with  me  !  ” 

The  Governor  of  Paris  laughed  heartily,  for 
he  was  in  excellent  humor  to-day,  and  it  amused 
him  to  hear  Caroline  Murat  call  her  husband 
‘  ‘  Prince  Joachim.  ’  ’  Never  before  had  his  proud 
castle  seemed  so  beautiful,  as  it  stood  there  bathed 
in  the  strong  sunlight  and  its  courtyard  thronged 
with  brilliant  figures.  He  had  a  vague  feeling 


3 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

that  it  looked  like  that  when  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
hunted  there,  thirty  years  before. 

“It  isn’t  every  one,”  he  said,  “who  has  your 
Highness’  talent  in  controlling  horses  as  well  as 
men.  For  my  part,  I  consider  hunting  too  dan¬ 
gerous  a  sport  for  ladies  in  general.” 

With  a  challenging  motion  of  her  head  toward 
Junot,  and  with  a  peculiar  glance  from  under 
her  long  eyelashes.  Princess  Caroline  said: 

“Has  it  never  occurred  to  you  that  there  are 
women  as  well  as  men  who  are  attracted  by  the 
danger  ?  ’  ’ 

As  though  Madame  Junot  had  not  heard  the 
conversation  between  the  Princess  and  her  hus¬ 
band,  she  turned  to  her  Imperial  Highness  and 
asked  if  it  was  her  wish  to  bathe  before  dinner. 
The  Princess  assented,  and,  leaning  upon  her  for¬ 
mer  playmate’s  arm,  she  disappeared  with  her 
down  the  broad  corridor  of  the  castle,  accom¬ 
panied  by  the  ladies  in  attendance. 

Junot  stroked  his  chin  and  smiled,  and  he 
stood  for  a  few  moments  watching  the  retreating 
figures. 

The  white  silk  curtains  were  drawn  aside  from 
the  two  massive  bathtubs  that  formed  the  center 
4 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


of  the  beautiful  bathroom  in  the  state  apartment 
at  Rainey.  Nymph  and  Naiad  looked  down  from 
the  frescoed  walls  upon  a  fair  scene  when  the 
Princess  stepped  daintily  from  her  dressing-room, 
where  she  had  been  disrobed,  and  moved  across 
the  marble  floor  in  the  soft  light  of  the  hanging- 
lamp  and  in  the  yellow  glow  from  the  Are  that 
was  burning  brightly  on  the  hearth.  Fairer  than 
Venus  she  looked  as  she  paused  in  order  to  drop 
her  rose-colored  shawl  at  the  edge  of  the  water, 
and  then  she  dipped  quickly  in  the  bath.  To 
one  of  the  maids  she  said  : 

‘‘Ask  Madame  Junot  to  come  to  me.” 

“Ah,  Laurette  .  .  .” — she  hesitated  over 
her  blunder,  for  she  had  long  since  ceased  to 
address  Madame  Junot  so  familiarly — “I  think 
you  told  me  that  one  of  your  maids  is  very  clever 
at  hair-dressing.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
lend  her  to  me  ?  ” 

“Tour  Highness  has  but  to  command;  I  shall 
send  for  Marguerite  at  once.” 

While  Madame  Junot  was  speaking,  the 
bather  rose,  the  better  to  survey  the  gorgeous 
dinner  toilet  in  which  she  had  entered;  for  the 
Governor’s  wife  was  arrayed  in  a  gown  of  white 
moir6  and  Flemish  lace,  and  the  diamonds 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


about  her  head  and  shoulders  gave  a  radiance  to 
her  complexion  that  could  not  be  surpassed. 
With  a  smiling  glance  the  Princess  whispered  : 

“  Listen,  Laurette;  do  you  know  that  a  grand 
toilette  becomes  you  the  best  while  ...” 

At  that  instant  her  foot  slipped,  and  she 
would  have  fallen  had  not  Madame  Junot, 
clutching  her  shoulder  with  a  firm  grip,  sup¬ 
ported  her.  But  for  several  days  afterward 
upon  Princess  Caroline’s  white,  round  shoulder 
there  were  to  be  seen  the  deep,  red  marks  that 
had  been  made  by  five  pointed  little  finger-nails. 

Junot  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  gazing  con¬ 
tentedly  at  the  scene  about  him.  The  substan¬ 
tial  hunting-dinner  was  nearing  its  end,  and 
about  him  in  profusion  were  to  be  seen  the  ar¬ 
tistic  vases  and  the  bowls  and  the  beautiful 
silver,  all  adorned  with  golden  lilies — the  arms 
of  the  House  of  Orleans;  they  had  formed  the 
table  service  at  Eaincy  for  many  years.  Every¬ 
where  were  the  brilliant  flowers  of  autumn,  and 
from  the  parent  vine  there  fell  in  abundance  to 
the  table  large  bunches  of  golden-green,  of  red, 
and  of  purple,  grapes.  Host  and  guests  offered 
toast  after  toast  to  a  successful  hunt,  drinkipg 


6 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


freely  from  Bohemian  glasses  that  were  treasured 
souvenirs  from  Austerlitz, 

When  Juuot  leaned  back,  he  let  his  arm  rest 
lightly  on  the  back  of  the  chair  to  his  right,  in 
which  sat  Princess  Caroline,  Grand  Duchess  of 
Berg  and  Cleve.  Over  the  wound  on  her  left 
shoulder  lay  a  lace  shawl  that,  like  an  airy  ban¬ 
dolier,  veiled  her  breast  and  softly  shaded  her 
rose- red  robe.  From  among  pink  and  white 
roses  her  many  jewels  peeped  out,  and  in  her 
blond  hair  there  glistened  the  golden  tips  of  a 
diadem.  Like  a  Venus  girdle  the  flowers  lay 
around  her  slender  waist  and  perfumed  her 
bosom  with  their  fragrance.  Her  little  hands — 
unusually  beautiful,  as  were  all  the  Bonapartes’ 
— played  thoughtfully  with  some  dark-blue 
grapes,  and  raised  them  one  by  one  to  her  ruby 
lips. 

Junot  watched  the  scene,  his  arm  still  hang¬ 
ing  loosely  over  the  back  of  the  Princess’  chair. 
From  her  beautiful  face,  flushed  with  wine,  his 
glance  wandered  down  the  long  row  of  merry 
guests  and  rested  with  a  sense  of  relief  upon  his 
wife  at  the  other  end  of  the  table.  She  was  lift¬ 
ing  her  glass — filled,  as  usual,  with  water — to  her 
escort,  M.  Moutbreton,  bending  forward  grace- 


7 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

fully  as  she  did  so.  He  could  almost  hear  the 
finely  turned  repartee  with  which  she  answered 
that  brilliant  gallant,  and  he  read  a  world  of 
meaning  in  her  clear  eyes  and  roguish  smile  as 
she  sat  there  in  white  and  diamonds — his 
proud  and  beautiful  wife. 

“Ohapelle!  Chapelle!”  cried  Junot,  spring¬ 
ing  to  his  feet  and  beckoning  to  his  valet,  who 
was  entering  the  room,  though  covered  with 
dust,  and  with  his  spurs  wet  with  blood,  “is 
it  a  message  from  Germany?”  And  when  he 
took  the  precious  missive  in  his  own  eager  hands, 
he  motioned  almost  impatiently  to  the  messenger 
to  withdraw. 

“You  have  ridden  with  this  all  the  way  from 
Paris,  good  Chapelle!  See  to  it  that  you  get 
wine  and  something  to  eat.” 

As  he  spoke,  Junot  tore  open  the  seal  and 
spread  the  despatch  before  him,  and  a  breath¬ 
less  silence  fell  upon  the  gay  and  noisy  company, 
each  one  leaning  forward,  eager  to  catch  the  first 
news  from  the  battle-field. 

Junot’ s  eyes  ran  quickly  over  the  paper;  then 
he  raised  them,  filled  with  tears,  and  spoke  with 
great  solemnity: 

“The  Grand  Army  has  entered  Berlin  ! ” 


8 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


He  stopped,  looked  around,  and,  inspired  by 
the  questions  he  read  in  all  their  anxious  looks, 
he  exclaimed,  lifting  his  glass: 

‘‘Let  us  always  remember  that  on  the  25th  of 
October,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1806,  our  Em¬ 
peror  planted  his  eagle  in  the  city  of  Frederick 
the  Great !  ” 

With  one  impulse  they  rose,  and,  with  up¬ 
lifted  glasses,  they  pledged  their  faith  in  the  cry: 

“Long  live  the  Emperor!  Long  live  the  vic¬ 
tory  over  Prussia  !  ’  ’ 

The  Governor  of  Paris  re-read  the  despatch, 
and  then  more  leisurely  he  studied  the  contents 
of  the  letter  that  accompanied  it.  Gradually  a 
proud  smile  stole  over  his  fine  features  as  he 
read  his  friend  Duroc’s  brief  description  of  the 
episodes  of  the  war  from  the  battle  at  Jena,  on 
the  14th  of  October,  to  the  entering  of  Berlin; 
there  were  only  twelve  days  between,  but  each 
day  was  marked  by  a  new  victory. 

Murmuring  almost  inaudibly,  he  re-read  the 
letter  until  he  came  to  the  last  part;  then  he 
raised  his  voice:  “  The  Emperor  is  pleased.  .  .  . 
Berthier  longs  for  Paris.  ...”  He  crushed 
the  paper  in  his  hand,  and,  with  an  expression 
of  bitter  grief,  lifted  his  other  hand  to  his  fore- 


9 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

head — “And  I — I  am  not  there! — I,  alone,  am 
not  allowed  to  be  with  them  !  ’  ’ 

His  face  flushed  with  excitement,  and  his  eyes 
filled  again  with  tears.  He  turned  to  his  wife, 
who  had  reached  his  side  almost  as  soon  as 
Chapelle,  and  in  uncontrollable  sorrow  he  re¬ 
peated,  in  a  toneless  whisper,  “I,  alone,  am  not 
allowed  to  be  with  him!  ” 

Madame  Juuot  glanced  quickly  at  her  guests, 
and,  pressing  her  husband’s  hand,  she  said  to 
Princess  Caroline: 

“Madame,  are  you  not  proud  to  see  how  be¬ 
loved  your  brother  is?  Never  has  Junot  made 
the  Emperor  a  greater  sacrifice  than  when  he 
agreed  to  remain  here  and  govern  his  Paris  for 
him.” 

The  Princess,  resting  her  hand  steadily  upon 
Madame  Junot’s  arm,  answered: 

“You  can  rest  assured  that  so  great  a  devo¬ 
tion  to  our  family  shall  have  a  proud  reward 
.  .  . ;  ”  and  for  a  moment  the  two  women 
looked  each  other  straight  in  the  eyes,  while  a 
stereotyped,  mask-like  smile  hid  the  thoughts 
of  one  and  the  crafty  designs  of  the  other. 

After  the  dinner  the  company  gathered  in  the 
salon,  a  very  large  room — almost  a  gallery — 


10 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


divided  into  three  parts  by  two  rows  of  slender 
marble  columns,  among  which  were  placed 
statues  holding  candelabra.  The  part  at  the 
left  was  a  billiard-room,  that  at  the  right  a 
music- room,  and  the  division  between  was  the 
real  reception-salon.  Through  an  imposing  row 
of  windows  was  to  be  had  a  beautiful  view  over 
the  park,  with  its  extensive  lawns  bordered  by 
the  brook,  the  Pavilion  Eendez-vous,  and  two 
long  rows  of  trees. 

Madame  Junot  sang,  with  Nicolo  Isouard,  the 
opera-singer,  a  duette  from  Fioravanti’s  “Ca¬ 
mille.”  If  it  was  intended  to  amuse  the  Prin¬ 
cess,  the  effort  was  lost;  for  she  sat  in  a  window- 
seat  chatting  with  Junot,  who,  in  a  sentimental 
posture,  leaned  against  one  of  the  pillars  in  front 
of  her. 

Princess  Caroline  was  not  very  musical;  she 
liked  to  talk  about  music,  and  she  sang  a  little, 
because  it  was  the  fashion.  To-night,  she  did 
not  try  to  conceal  the  fact  that  she  would  rather 
talk  than  sing,  or  listen  to  singing.  She  ap¬ 
plauded  loudly,  nevertheless,  when  the  duette 
was  finished. 

“  My  wife  has  a  splendid  voice,  has  she  not  ?  ” 
said  Junot,  enthusiastically. 


11 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

‘‘A  magnificent  voice — truly  Italian!”  an¬ 
swered  the  Princess,  with  fervor,  rising  with  the 
others  to  congratulate  Madame  Junot. 

The  company  now  sui’rounded  the  host  and 
begged  him  to  sing,  for  they  knew  that  his  voice 
was  iTnusually  sonorous,  flexible,  and  full  of  feel¬ 
ing;  and  to-night  they  did  not  ask  in  vain. 

‘‘Only  one  song;  .  .  .  to-night  I  can  sing 
but  one  song.”  Emotional  as  he  was,  his  eyes 
filled  with  tears  as  he  began: 

Allans  enfants  de  la  patrie, 

Le  jour  de  glaive  est  arrive.  ...” 

The  spirit  of  the  song  was  contageous.  The 
ladies  nodded  their  heads  and  softly  hummed 
the  patriotic  words,  while  to  the  men — no  mat¬ 
ter  of  what  political  party — there  arose  pictures 
of  war  and  victory. 


12 


II 


n  est  impossible  de  rien  imaglner  de  plus 
joli,  de  plus  vif,  de  plus  aimable,  de  plus 
saillant  que  ne  I’fitait  cette  jeune  dame, 
vetue  avec  une  elegance,  une  fralcheur 
qui  cadraient  si  parfaitement  avec  tout 
ce  aue  la  nature  avait  mis  de  coquetterie, 
de  luxe  la  former.  Elle  dtait  char- 
mante  .  .  . 

M6m.  du  General  Bon  Thi^bault 
(sur  Mme.  Junot). 

Sur  les  quatre  mois  que  je  demeurai  d, 
Paris,  i’en  passai  deux  il  m’^tonner  en 
voyant  des  gens  raisonnables  se  lais- 
ser  dominer  par  les  hochets  que  la  petite 
main  de  I’Empereur  leur  jetait  au  visage. 

Mme.  Junot  (1806). 


HE  Governor  of  Paris  had  recently 
bought  his  beautiful  residence,  Eaincy, 
from  Ouvrard,  who  had  owned  it  since 
the  Eevolution,  but  who  had  had  neither  the 
money  nor  the  taste  to  restore  it  and  make  it 
worthy  of  its  fame.  Madame  Junot  had  always 
loved  the  dignified  old  place,  and  on  one  occa¬ 
sion  she  had  expressed  in  stronger  terms  than 
usual  her  great  liking  for  this  relic  of  the  old 
regime.  A  few  days  later  her  husband  invited 


13 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

lier  to  liuut  witli  him  at  Eaiucy,  closing  with 
the  remark: 

‘‘Ouvrard  has  given  me  permission  to  kill  a 
few  deer  there,  and  I  should  be  glad  of  your 
company,  if  you  can  arrange  to  come  with 
me.” 

Madame  Junot  called  for  her  hat  and  shawl, 
and  in  the  clear  September  sunshine  she  was 
soon  flying  with  him  through  the  streets  of 
Paris  to  the  Strassburg  road  in  their  light  cab¬ 
riolet.  They  were  alone,  for  the  General  drove. 
His  hand  often  sought  the  little  Angers  that 
quietly  rested  upon  the  shawl,  and,  just  as 
often,  he  bent  forward  to  peep  under  the  broad- 
brimmed  hat  into  the  clear  brown  eyes  that  were 
shaded  by  the  half- drawn  veil.  Not  many  words 
were  spoken  ;  but  she  could  see,  from  his  tender 
glances  and  by  the  smiles  that  constantly  played 
about  his  mouth,  that  he  was  thinking  happy 
thoughts:  that  was  enough  for  her. 

When  the  carriage  swung  into  the  courtyard 
at  Eaincy,  Junot  lifted  his  young  wife  and  car¬ 
ried  her  up  the  stairs  to  the  magniflcent  dining¬ 
room,  where  the  lunch  stood  prepared  on  the 
Sevres  porcelain  and  silver. 

Junot  smilingly  took  the  cashmere  shawl  from 


14 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


her  shoulders,  and  loosened  the  white  silk  rib¬ 
bons  that  were  tied  under  her  round  chin;  for 
as  yet  they  had  seen  but  one  servant  and  the 
groom  who  took  the  carriage. 

Madame  la  gouvernante  de  Paris'^ — he  sol¬ 
emnly  took  her  hand  in  his  and  looked  at  her 
with  glad  eyes — “how  do  you  think  a  roasted 
chicken  and  a  glass  of  champagne  would  taste?” 

“  Let  us  divide  the  chicken,  dear;  you  drink 
the  champagne.  Eeally,  I  think  I  could  live  on 
sunshine  and  beauty  in  this  fairy  castle  !  ” 

He  led  her  through  the  whole  castle,  showing 
her  the  splendid  salon,  divided  into  three  parts, 
the  antique  bath,  and  the  round  boudoir  in  the 
tower,  the  walls  of  which  were  hung  with  light, 
almost  silvery,  silk,  and  were  ornamented  with 
slender  columns,  alternately  decked  at  the  top 
with  silver  doves  and  eagles. 

“But  this  is  like  a  fairytale!”  exclaimed 
Madame  Junot.  “  Is  it  an  enchanted  castle  you 
have  brought  me  to  ?  ” 

He  took  her  hand  and  drew  her  to  the  win¬ 
dow;  there  lay  the  park,  hundi’eds  of  years  old, 
where  the  noblest  game  of  France  had  grazed; 
there  merrily  rippled  the  brook,  between  flow¬ 
ers  and  through  green  meadows.  .  .  . 


15 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

“  Tell  me,  Laurette;  wliat  do  you  really  think 
of  Rainey 

Madame  Junot  sighed.  “I  have  told  you, 
dear,  that  it  is  a  fairy  castle — a  home  for  a 
prince  and  a  dryad.” 

She  looked  up  at  him.  His  eyes  were  moist, 
though  they  beamed  with  roguish  delight.  He 
was  silent  for  a  moment,  while  he  continued  to 
look  at  her.  The  smile  on  his  lips  grew  deeper 
and  happier  as  he  spread  his  arms  to  her,  ex¬ 
claiming: 

“It  is  yours,  all  yours!  Rainey  is  yours!  I 
give  it  to  you,  my  Queen  !  ” 

And  so  it  was  that  the  old  castle  became  the 
home  of  their  young  happiness,  of  their  proud 
plans,  and  of  their  ambitious  dreams.  In  Octo¬ 
ber  they  all  moved  to  their  new  abode:  Junot’ s 
old  mother,  his  sister  and  her  husband  (who 
had  always  lived  with  them),  the  English  gov¬ 
erness,  and  the  whole  staff  of  servants. 

Hers  had  always  been  an  hospitable  home;  for 
the  Governor’s  wife  was  fond  of  company,  and 
regularly  gathered  many  guests  about  her.  She 
was,  too,  the  lady  of  the  court  who  was  most 
famous  for  her  dress.  Her  costumes  were  famous 
16 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


for  their  beauty,  and  especially  for  their  color¬ 
ing,  which  she  skilfully  made  to  harmonize  with 
her  dark  complexion,  dark  eyes,  and  fine,  sylph¬ 
like  figure,  which  now,  as  she  was  just  twenty- 
two,  had  the  fresh  roundness  of  the  mature 
woman.  She  was  unusually  graceful,  and  in 
dancing — a  pleasure  that  she  greatly  loved — she 
had  the  grace  of  a  Spanish  gitana.  “She  dances 
like  a  Bajadere  dressed  as  a  court  lady,”  once 
said  the  Emperor  of  her,  at  a  grand  ball  at 
Hotel  de  Ville. 

She  had  a  fine,  strong  nature,  which  was 
sturdy  and  not  easily  bent;  but  there  was  some¬ 
thing  uneven  and  unaccountable  about  her  that 
constantly  reminded  one  of  her  peculiar  origin. 
She  had,  on  the  other  hand,  a  power  of  astonish¬ 
ing  and  dazzling  by  a  mere  glance  of  her  large 
eyes,  a  special  gesture,  a  bend  of  the  head,  or  a 
movement  of  her  slender  body. 

Madame  Junot  was  generally  considered 
haughty  and  self-confident,  a  reputation  not  alto¬ 
gether  unmerited;  for,  in  spite  of  her  politeness 
and  her  well-taught  respect  for  social  forms,  she 
had  inherited  from  her  mother  a  proud,  non¬ 
chalant  superiority.  In  her  veins,  as  in  the 
Bonapartes’,  coursed  royal  blood.  In  spite  of 

17 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

her  aristocratic  tastes  and  her  unreflecting  obedi¬ 
ence  to  forms  and  ceremonies,  she  could  never 
be  quite  molded  into  a  court  lady. 

Her  critical  attitude  toward  others  was  always 
alert,  and  gave  to  her  irony  a  keenness  that  cut 
all  alike.  The  Emperor,  in  spite  of  his  fault¬ 
finding,  felt,  in  his  innermost  heart,  a  secret 
sympathy  with  this  soul  of  fire  and  steel.  She 
was  flexible,  and  yet  unchangeable,  like  himself ; 
and  he  used  to  say  that  she  was  a  little  imp — 
une  petite  peste — an  incorrigible. 

True  to  her  Eastern  origin,  she  loved  pomp  ; 
not  the  official  pomp  of  the  court — the  “tri¬ 
colored”  style,  as  she  sometimes  jokingly  called 
it — but  the  real,  fantastic,  tasteful,  elaborate  lux¬ 
ury  which  she  had,  as  a  child,  learned  to  appre¬ 
ciate  in  her  rich  home,  and  which,  later  on,  be¬ 
came  a  necessity  of  her  life.  Neither  she  nor 
Junot  knew  how  to  economize,  for  they  poured 
out  money  with  lavish  hands;  and  Madame 
Junot’ s  jewels,  it  was  said,  compared  favorably 
with  those  of  the  Empress. 

She  was  happy  and  satisfied  with  the  high 
position  her  husband  occupied  for  the  moment 
with  Napoleon,  but  she  considered  it  a  natural 
and  just  reward  for  his  services — not  a  special 


18 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


fiivor.  She  felt  very  sure  that  there  was  not 
another  of  his  Generals  to  whom  the  Emperor 
could  entrust  his  capital  with  greater  safety 
than  to  Junot. 

From  1800  to  1803,  while  Junot  was  Com¬ 
mandant  of  Paris,  he  had  made  himself  both 
loved  and  feared  at  the  same  time.  The  people 
did  not  hesitate  later  to  make  it  clearly  under¬ 
stood  that  the  dissatisfactions  and  troubles  that 
arose  during  the  Emperor’s  absence,  and  during 
the  crisis  of  1805,  would  not  have  occurred  had 
Junot  still  held  command  in  Paris.  It  was, 
therefore,  quite  natural  that  Napoleon  should 
restore  him  to  the  same  position — it  was  to  his 
own  interest — and  give  him  still  more  power 
than  he  had  had  before. 

Madame  Junot  had  spent  the  time  before  the 
forming  of  the  Empire  and  the  Coronation  with 
her  husband,  who  was  then  stationed  at  Bou¬ 
logne.  On  New-year’s  day,  1805,  Junot  was 
appointed  Ambassador  to  Portugal,  where  he 
remained  until  the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  The 
Emperor  had  given  him  his  sacred  promise  to 
call  him  at  once,  in  case  war  should  break  out 
again;  for  of  all  the  proud  titles  that  Junot  held 
at  this  time — such  as,  Gnmd-Offieier  de  V  Empire, 


19 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Colonel- General  des  Sussards,  Amhassadeur  ex¬ 
traordinaire  d  la  Cour  de  lAsbonne — the  one  which 
he  prized  the  highest,  and  which  he  had  held 
since  1793,  was  this:  ‘‘Napoleon’s  First  Adju¬ 
tant.” 

During  the  early  part  of  1806  the  Emperor 
had  detained  Junot  on  the  Continent  as  Governor- 
General  over  Parma  and  Piacenza,  while  Madame 
Junot  traveled  home  from  Lisbon  alone.  The 
Emperor  received  her  very  cordially,  spoke  in 
the  highest  terms  about  her  husband,  made  fun 
of  the  newly  learned  court  habits  of  this  twenty- 
year- old  Ambassadress — (  Voyez  Josephine,  comme 
elle  fait  hien  maintenant  la  reverence  !) — and  made 
her  at  once  Lady  in  Waiting  to  his  mother. 
Madame  Bonaparte  herself  felt  a  little  uncer¬ 
tain  in  her  new  position  as  Imperial  and  Eoyal 
Princess.  She  found,  however,  in  her  young 
attendant  a  helpful  and  sympathetic  friend. 
“Madame  Junot,”  she  said,  “ is  almost  like  my 
own  child.” 

Madame  Junot  did  a  great  deal  of  wondering 
(as  she  wrote  to  her  husband,  who  was  still  at 
Parma)  during  the  first  months  after  her 
return  to  Paris.  For  a  time  she  was  at  a  loss 
to  place  anything — all  was  so  changed  from  the 


20 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Paris  she  had  known.  The  monarchy,  with  all 
its  institutions,  had  sprung  up  in  1805  like  a 
great  power.  Although  she  had  not  seen  Napo¬ 
leon  since  1804,  she  commenced  to  see  clearly  the 
outlines  of  his  system.  The  diiferent  classes 
which  had  been  but  slightly  sketched  when  she 
left  the  Tuileries  now  stood  arranged  in  solid 
ranks,  well  grouped  around  the  throne;  the  eti¬ 
quette  of  the  court  had  grown  quite  as  strong 
and  severe  as  under  Louis  XIV.  The  luxury 
which  hitherto  had  retained  some  of  the  lawless 
charm  of  the  Directorate  suddenly  became  offi¬ 
cial,  regular,  and  “authorized” — like  every¬ 
thing  else.  The  old  titles  came  into  use  again; 
letters  were  dated  occording  to  the  Gregorian 
calendar;  and,  at  the  grand  fetes  in  the  Marshal’s 
hall  and  in  the  Diana  gallery,  you  no  longer 
amused  yourself,  but  were  amused. 

Madame  Junot  opened  her  large  eyes  and  bit 
her  quick  tongue  when  she  met  the  new  court 
ladies  for  the  first  time.  W ere  they  really  the  same 
people  whom  she  had  seen  so  often  in  the  salons 
of  Faubourg  St.  Germain  1  Had  she  not  heard 
them  vent  their  sarcasm  over  the  restless  little 
Corsican  ?  Were  they  really  the  same  who  used 
to  boast  that  they  called  on  Madame  Bonaparte, 


21 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

but  never  visited  the  General’s  receptions?  Yes, 
they  were  the  same  ;  she  knew  their  faces  and 
their  names  ;  but  she  did  not  recognize  their  ex¬ 
pressions. 

Were  the  young  gentlemen  who  now  figured 
so  neatly  in  the  costume  quadrille,  led  by  Prince 
Louis  and  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg — were 
they  really  the  same  whom  she  had  seen  draped 
in  togas  earnestly  calling  each  other  Brutus  and 
Torquatus  ?  Ah,  after  all,  Olichy  did  not  lie  so 
far  from  the  Tuileries  as  Eome  from  Paris! 

She  never  forgot  the  first  official  fete  after 
she  returned  from  Lisbon.  It  was  the  grand 
“circle,”  with  concert  and  ball,  which  the 
Emperor  gave  at  the  Marshal’s  hall  in  honor  of 
Prince  Louis,  whom  he  had  recently  selected  to 
be  the  King  of  Holland.  In  the  earlier  days 
one  conversed  in  the  Tuileries  as  in  any  other 
salon  in  Paris  ;  even  at  the  grand  Quintidi  din¬ 
ners — in  which  so  many  different  elements  had 
joined — there  had  at  least  been  something  like  a 
reflection  of  the  glad  and  easy  spirit  of  Vancien 
regimes.  But  now!  When  she  took  her  seat 
that  evening  in  the  semicircle  of  ladies  arrayed 
in  gala  costumes,  with  court  mantles  and  che- 
rusque  of  stiff-pointed  gold  lace — weU,  it  was 


22 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


out  of  the  question  to  expect  one’s  neighbor  to 
make  joking  remarks.  The  ladies  sat  as  silently 
as  in  church  during  mass,  while  the  gentlemen 
silently  stood  behind  their  chairs,  or  in  rows 
along  the  walls,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  their 
Majesties.  Empress  Josephine  entered  quietly 
and  without  ceremony,  followed  by  her  suite ; 
she  bowed  gracefully  and  solemnly,  and  took  her 
place  at  the  throne,  while  silence  again  spread 
over  the  hall,  broken  only  by  the  rustle  of  silk 
and  the  noise  of  fans  as  they  opened  and  closed. 

Madame  Junot  could  not  deny  that  she  was  es¬ 
pecially  curioiTS  to  see  the  Emperor  under  these 
different  circumstances.  At  other  times  when 
she  had  met  him,  after  a  long  absence,  it  ap¬ 
peared  to  her  that  he  had  remained  the  same — 
unchangeably  the  same  :  always  in  the  same  un¬ 
pretentious  uniform  of  the  Guard  that  she  had 
seen  him  wear  since  the  18th  Brumaire,  and  he 
always  had  the  same  careless,  sometimes  good- 
natured,  sometimes  commanding  and  ironical, 
manner  that  she  knew  so  well — even  at  the  time 
when  he  was  a  young  Lieutenant,  a  General,  and 
First  Consul.  He  was  a  little  stouter  now,  but 
his  fuller  form  became  him  well,  and  his  skin,  no 
longer  yellow,  had  the  dull  paleness  of  marble. 


23 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

At  last  the  roll  of  the  drums  was  heard  ;  then 
the  guards  threw  open  the  doors. 

“The Emperor  !  ”  exclaimed  every  one,  rising. 
Napoleon  stepped  quickly  in,  preceded  by  his 
first  Palace  Prefet  and  followed  by  a  large  suite. 
His  walk  had  the  same  restless  agility  as  before, 
and  it  seemed  to  Madame  Junot  that,  in  his 
impatience,  he  would  stumble  over  his  throne, 
so  rapidly  did  he  walk  toward  it.  To-night  he 
was  in  gala  costume,  with  French  dress  coat  and 
knee-breeches  of  white  silk  and  gold  embroidery. 
He  carried  the  Legion  of  Honor’s  large  chain  of 
diamonds,  and  wore  a  broad  scarf,  tied  at  the  side. 
Over  one  shovdder  hung  a  short  purple  mantle  em¬ 
broidered  with  golden  bees  ;  inside  of  this,  on  the 
white  silk  lining,  an  enormous  laurel-crowned  A 
glittered  with  gold  and  jewels.  In  his  hand  he 
carried  a  Henry  IV.  hat  ornamented  with  a  dia¬ 
mond  buckle  and  with  immense  white  plumes 
that  almost  trailed  on  the  fioor.  The  gentlemen 
of  his  suite — she  knew  them  all — wore  similar 
costumes,  except  that  they  were  of  different  color. 
All  wore  white  silk  stockings,  and  all  carried 
hats  with  feathered  ornaments. 

Madame  Junot  saw  the  Emperor  speak  to  young 
Mol6  and  Vicomte  de  Laval-Montmorency,  who 


24 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


had  been  lately  elected  Governor  in  Compiegne. 
She  followed  him  with  her  gaze,  and  suddenly, 
over  this  ocean  of  heads,  her  eyes  naet  his.  These 
friends  of  childhood  exchanged  glances  and 
smiled  simultaneously.  The  Emperor  turned, 
passed  his  small  white  hand  over  his  chin,  and 
addressed  a  few  words  to  her  Majesty’s  newly 
elected  court  lady,  the  Duchess  of  Luynes-Ohev- 
reuse. 


25 


Ill 


L’homme  qua  j’aime  et  qua  j’admire  3, 
regal  cle  Dieu  —  si  ce  n’est  plus. 

Lo  Gfn^ral  Junot 
(de  Bouaparte,  en  figypte,  an  VII.). 

Ella  etait  fort  Slogan  te,  ouvrait  ton  jours 
le  bal  avec  le  gouvarneur  de  Paris,  jouait 
au  whist  avec  le  gouverneur  de  Paris, 
recevait  seul,  de  preference  Hl  tout  autre, 
le  gouverneur  de  Paris.  Enfin  ce  pauvre 
gouverneur  de  Paris  qui  n’etait  pas  un 
ange  .  .  . 

Mme.  Junot  (Mem.). 


tlie  season  of  1806-7  iiromised  to 
isually  gay  in  Paris,  insjiirited  as 
by  the  many  brilliant  victories  of 
the  army,  it  did  not  show  any  marked  brilliancy 
until  Christmas.  The  Emperor  and  his  stalf 
and  the  young  officers  of  the  Guard  were  natu¬ 
rally  missed,  for  they  were  still  with  the  army 
at  Berlin.  So  Paris  did  not  quite  wake  up  until 
the  Empress  had  again  changed  her  residence 
from  Mainz  to  the  Tuileries. 

A  brilliant  circle  of  foreign  ambassadors  had 
been  added  to  society.  Europe  had  sent  her  most 
intelligent  and  winning  diplomats  to  the  court  of 
the  new  Caesar,  and  as  this  new  court  grew  day  by 


HOUGH 
be  um 
it  was 


26 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


day,  it  could  count  among  its  members  de¬ 
scendants  of  the  oldest  and  most  aristocratic 
names  of  France.  Besides,  there  was  now  a 
young  and  happy  gouvernante  of  Paris,  who 
knew  that  she  would  fulfil  the  Emperor’s  wish 
when  she  did  les  honneurs  for  his  capital  as 
elaborately  as  possible. 

Society  soon  divided  itself  into  factions,  how¬ 
ever,  as  soon  as  it  lost  the  Tuileries  as  its  social 
center.  The  Queen  of  Naples  lived  cpxietly  at 
Luxembourg,  and  neither  the  Princess  Borghese 
nor  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg — though  she 
held  court  like  a  little  sovereign  in  her  Palace 
Elysee-Napoleon — had  superiority  enough  to 
join  the  different  elements  and  neutralize  their 
hostilities. 

In  the  meantime  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
dancing,  not  only  at  Faubourg  St.  Germain, 
where  the  Duke  of  Luynes  received  every  even¬ 
ing  until  five  o’clock  in  the  morning,  but  also  in 
the  more  exclusive  court  circles.  And,  it  could 
not  be  denied,  society  really  had  a  better  time 
in  this  manner,  each  faction  by  itself,  than  in 
les  grandes  coliucs  in  the  Tuileries,  where  the 
Emperor  experimented  with  his  pet  pi’oject: 
‘  ‘  Intermingling.  ’  ’ 


27 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Madame  Junot  could  not  as  yet  make  up  her 
mind  to  leave  Eaiucy.  She  raised  all  possible 
objections  every  time  a  word  was  spoken  about 
moving  to  Paris,  altbougb  the  palace  at  Champs- 
^^lys6es  stood  ready  to  receive  them  all.  Every 
one  else  had  now  settled  down  in  the  city  for  the 
winter,  and  her  husband  complained  that  he  had 
to  travel  from  Paris  to  Eaincy  twice  a  day. 

Still,  Madame  Junot  found  new  excuses  for 
remaining  where  she  was;  for  she  knew  that  this 
home,  outside  of  Paris,  was  one  of  her  best  and 
surest  weapons  against  a  certain  lady  who  was 
doing  all  in  her  power  to  make  General  Junot 
accustomed  to  spending  his  time  with  her  at  the 
^Jysee. 

The  intimacy  that  had  been  so  noticeable  of 
late  between  the  Governor  of  Paris  and  Princess 
Caroline,  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg — in  spite 
of  the  long  time  they  had  known  each  other — 
had  but  lately  reached  the  point  of  attracting 
attention.  It  began  about  the  time  when  the 
Emperor  left  the  capital;  and,  after  that,  it 
quickly  grew,  until  ...  Yes,  during  this 
dull  time  at  the  court  the  gossips  scarcely 
touched  upon  anything  else. 

Junot  was  considered  one  of  the  most  dignified 


28 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


and  imposing  men  in  the  army.  He  was  now 
about  thirty-five  years  old,  tall  and  powerful, 
and  he  looked  the  splendid  rider  and  undaunted 
soldier  that  he  was.  His  hair  was  dark-blond, 
heavy,  and  curly.  From  his  temple,  across  his 
cheek,  there  stretched  a  long,  broad  sabre- scar, 
that  emphasized  still  more  the  stern  expression 
of  his  handsome  face.  His  large,  beautifully 
formed  eyes  were  dark-blue,  with  an  intent, 
sometimes  fanatic,  glance,  which  was  often  so 
peculiarly  sharp  and  keen  that  one  shrank  from 
meeting  it.  His  mouth  was  large  and  express¬ 
ive.  Beardless  (as  was  the  fashion),  his  face 
had  a  touch  of  melancholic  energy  that  some¬ 
times  bordered  on  hardness.  To  no  one  was  a 
smile  more  becoming,  and  he  often  added  that 
charm  to  his  winning  ways. 

General  Junot  had  the  unusual  faculty  of 
readily  putting  himself  in  mental  sympathy 
with  others,  and  of  communicating  his  delight, 
sorrow,  or  indignation  to  those  about  him.  It 
was  this  quality  that  made  him  such  an  invalu¬ 
able  leader  when  it  became  necessary  to  inflame 
the  soldiers’  courage  and  to  rouse  them  to  the 
point  of  facing  the  fire  of  battle.  That  he  did 
not  fear  to  lead  whither  he  asked  his  men  to  fol. 

29 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

low  was  shown  by  the  many  scars  that  adorned 
his  body. 

He  was  known  as  an  excellent  comrade,  open- 
hearted,  gay,  and  true  ;  but,  as  a  master,  he  was 
impetuous  and  exacting.  When  he  first  entered 
the  army,  his  comrades  called  him  ‘‘The  Tem¬ 
pest,”  on  account  of  all  these  different  emotions 
and  powers  of  his. 

He  had  devoted  himself  to  Napoleon  with  all 
the  warmth  of  his  soul — even  during  the  dark 
years  of  ’  94-’  95,  when  young  General  Bonaparte 
suffered  so  bitterly  from  the  inactivity  and  ob¬ 
scurity  to  which  he  seemed  forever  doomed. 
Junot  was  Napoleon’s  Adjutant,  and,  like  a 
brother,  he  tied  his  fate  to  that  of  his  leader. 
He  faithfully  shared  with  his  General  every  penny 
that  his  well-to-do  parents  sent  him;  in  fact,  he 
often  left  the  management  of  his  meager  funds  to 
Bonaparte,  who  was  the  more  saving  of  the  two. 
There  were  many  times,  though,  when  he  rushed 
off  with  his  allowance  and  risked  large  parts  of 
it  in  the  gambling-houses  in  the  hope  of  gain. 

For  a  long  time  Junot,  as  private  secretary, 
wrote  Bonaparte’s  letters,  and  in  that  capacity 
patiently  listened  by  the  hour  to  Napoleon’s 
fantastic  projects  and  daring  plans  in  which  he 


30 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


blindly  believed.  Yes,  when  Bonaparte  was 
imprisoned  by  the  Convention,  Jiinot  insisted,  in 
his  despair,  that  he  should  be  imprisoned  with 
him,  and  offered  even  to  give  his  own  life  to  save 
his  friend.  Long  before  the  rest  of  the  world 
suspeeted  that  there  was  anything  unusual  about 
this  lean,  autocratie  Corsican,  with  his  sharp, 
hungry  eyes,  ruffled  hair,  and  unbrushed  shoes, 
Junot  idolized  him  as  a  genius — a  higher  order 
of  being.  Bonaparte  quietly  accepted  Junot’s 
devotions  and  truly  appreciated  his  friendship; 
but  it  was  always  with  that  touch  of  superiority 
which  was  natural  to  him,  and  for  which  no  one 
thought  of  blaming  him.  Junot  was  Napoleon’s 
confidant^ — '^friend  of  his  heart,”  as  it  was  then 
called — in  Paris,  Italy,  and  Egypt,  and  his 
assistant  and  trusted  man  under  the  Consulate 
and  Empire.  Though  Napoleon  never  thought 
highly  of  people,  and  seldom  trusted  any  one,  he 
never  for  an  instant  thought  of  doubting  Junot’s 
faithfulness. 

Junot’s  position  with  Napoleon  had  early  es¬ 
tablished  an  intimate  and  confidential  relation 
with  the  Bonaparte  family,  and  Madame  Lsetitia, 
Napoleon’s  mother,  looked  upon  Junot  as  though 
he  were  her  sou.  When,  however,  Junot  fell  in 


31 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

love  with  Pauline  Bonaparte,  Napoleon  was  not 
in  favor  of  this  union,  simply  because  neither  his 
sister  nor  Junot  had  the  slighest  prospects ;  he 
thought  that  their  marriage  would  lead  only  to 
poverty  and  misery. 

Junot  had  often  seen  Napoleon’s  youngest 
sister,  Caroline,  when  she  was  a  little  girl,  and 
later  on,  after  his  marriage  to  Laurette,  and  after 
Caroline  had  married  Murat,  he  saw  her  almost 
daily.  While  Junot  was  Commandant  of  Paris, 
during  the  first  three  years  of  the  Consulate,  the 
Murats  lived  at  Hotel  Thelusson,  and,  in  conse¬ 
quence,  they  became  very  intimate  with  his  own 
family.  Caroline  was,  at  this  time,  very  much  in 
love  with  her  husband,  and  was  completely  ab¬ 
sorbed  in  her  young  happiness. 

Caroline  danced,  of  course,  with  General 
Junot  nearly  every  evening  at  the  improvised 
balls  at  Malmaison,  or  at  the  Tuileries,  and  she 
often  found  more  pleasure  in  his  company  than 
in  that  of  the  other  young  ofi&cers  of  her  brother’s 
staff;  but  it  never  dawned  upon  her  to  fall  in 
love  with  Junot.  In  her  childhood  days  she 
took  it  for  granted  that  Junot  belonged  to  her 
sister,  ‘^Paulette,”  and  now  that  he  was  mar¬ 
ried  to  Laurette  and  much  in  love  with  her —  No, 
32 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


she  really  did  not  think  of  falling  in  love  with 
him — at  least,  at  that  time  ! 

It  happened  immediately  after  Junot’s  return 
from  Parma  that,  unaccompanied  by  his  wife, 
he  paid  his  respects  to  her  Imperial  Highness, 
Princess  Caroline,  at  ^]lysee;  for  she,  like  many 
of  the  leading  ladies  of  the  time,  received 
nearly  every  evening,  and  on  this  occasion  she 
had  many  people  about  her.  A  little  tired  of 
her  duties  as  hostess  and  Princess — to  the  latter 
of  which  she  was  not  quite  accustomed — Caro¬ 
line,  with  a  few  intimate  friends,  had  withdrawn 
to  her  boudoir,  where  they  listened  with  much 
interest  to  General  Junot’s  glowing  description 
of  an  episode  from  the  war  in  Miihren. 

He  leaned  lightly  against  the  marble  mantle, 
and,  with  expressive  gestures  and  thrilling 
words,  told  about  the  brave  deeds  of  his  soldiers. 
But  Princess  Caroline  was  not  listening  closely 
to  what  he  said,  although  her  eyes  were  fixed 
on  him  constantly.  The  glow  from  the  chande¬ 
lier  and  the  tall  candelabra,  back  of  the  Gov¬ 
ernor  of  Paris,  threw  a  soft  light  over  his  manly 
form  and  handsome  face.  The  light  gilded  his 
blond  curls  and  spread  a  glow  over  his  warm 
brown  skin  and  the  livid  scar  on  his  temple. 


33 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

How  proud  liis  mien  !  How  masterful  the  poise 
of  his  head  against  the  fur  on  his  liussar  cloak  ! 
How  boldly  his  hand  rested  on  his  hip  above  the 
handle  of  his  sword  !  A  knight,  a  Bayard ! 
thought  the  Princess. 

The  moment  Jiinot  had  finished  his  anecdotes 
of  heroism  and  sentiment,  the  Princess  arose, 
her  dark  eyes  afiame  with  animation,  and,  walk¬ 
ing  toward  him,  she  grasped  his  hand. 

“The  Emperor’s  sister  regrets  that  she  has  no 
laurel  wreaths  to  give  to  the  bravest  of  his  Gen¬ 
erals,”  she  said,  with  the  royal  graciousness 
which  she  could  so  well  affect.  “But  do  you 
know  how  a  French  lady  can  reward  a  brave 
warrior  ’  ’ 

Junot,  at  first  surprised,  bowed  laughingly, 
with  his  hand  upon  his  heart.  “Madame,” 
said  he,  “a  French  soldier  appreciates  but  one 
reward  .  .  .  ,  ”  and  with  his  words  he  bent  his 
knee  in  knightly  fashion  to  Caroline,  who,  be¬ 
stowing  upon  him  that  tender  smile  which 
faintly  reminded  him  of  her  brother,  laid  both 
her  hands  upon  his  shoulders  and  pressed  her 
lips  against  his  forehead — upon  the  scar  over 
his  left  temple. 

While  she  was  leaning  a  little  heavily  upon 


34 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


him,  he  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  take  the  slender, 
beautiful  form  in  his  arms;  but  he  remembered 
at  once — she  was  the  Emperor’s  sister!  He 
smiled  and  looked  up — straight  into  her  eyes. 
She  blushed  a  little,  and  said,  with  great  assur¬ 
ance; 

‘Hn  the  future  you  have  the  right  to  carry 
my  colors,  Mr.  Governor  of  Paris” — she  quickly 
tore  the  rose-colored  rosette  from  her  belt. 
‘‘You  know  that  I  am  Paris’  own  Princess.” 

There  were  none  present  upon  whom  this  lit¬ 
tle  scene  made  any  strong  impression  at  the 
time.  It  was  quite  proper  that  a  woman  should 
become  enthusiastic  over  daring  deeds — and  the 
taste  of  the  times  required  “scenes.”  A  kiss 
on  the  forehead,  moreover,  meant  nothing  more 
than  a  hand-clasp  while  dancing — scarcely  as 
much.  There  was  not  a  cavalier  who  had  not, 
at  least  in  kissing  games,  kissed  every  lady  of 
his  acquaintance.  For  Junot  there  was  this 
gain  from  the  scene:  he  was  thenceforth  per¬ 
mitted  to  wear  the  Princess’  “colors.” 

After  the  Coronation  the  appearance  of  the 
social  world  changed  from  an  antique  model  to 
a  fashion  decidedly  chivalric,  medieval,  and 
troubadour.  There  was  not  an  officer  in  the 

35 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Emperor’s  army  who  did  not  boast  of  having  a 
ribbon,  or  a  scrap  of  lace  at  his  sword-handle, 
or  some  fair  lady’s  favor  under  the  plume  of  his 
chapeau.  The  Princess  already  had  a  whole 
cohort  of  ‘  ‘  knights  ’  ’ ;  there  were  several  among 
the  young  men  of  the  guard  who,  in  sentimental 
confessions — which  were  sometimes  followed  by 
bloody  duels — showed  dainty  rose-colored  tokens 
of  affection.  These  they  had  received  from  the 
same  gracious  hand  at  one  or  another  tender 
moment. 

But  Junot  had  felt  the  Princess’  warm  lips 
tremble  against  his  forehead,  though  he  sus¬ 
pected  that  her  warmth  was  not  on  account  of 
his  bravery,  of  which  he  had  not  boasted  during 
his  recital.  Her  Imperial  Highness  had  shown 
him  a  great  honor.  He  smiled  to  himself  as  he 
walked  down  the  stairs  of  ^^lysee  late  that  night 
— ^he  was  used  to  such  easy  conquests — and,  when 
he  reached  home,  he  told  the  whole  story  to  his 
wife  without  special  thought  or  comment. 

Madame  Junot,  on  the  other  hand,  did  not 
take  the  episode  so  lightly.  The  kiss — that  did 
not  trouble  her;  but  she  knit  her  fine  eyebrows  a 
little  as  she  said:  “There  has  been  a  great  deal 
of  talk  about  Caroline  this  winter,  I  hear.  If 


36 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


no  one  holds  her  back,  she  will  be  as  flighty  as 
Paulette.” 

Junot  remarked,  with  a  gay  laugh  : 

“  That  would  be  good  enough  for  Murat !  You 
know  how  little  he  troubles  himself !  ” 

Madame  Junot,  who  usually  appreciated  a 
piquant  story  at  its  passing  value,  interrupted 
him  in  a  short,  brusque  manner  with  the  unex¬ 
pected  comment : 

“I  am  not  at  all  interested  in  the  conquests  of 
her  Highness.” 

Toward  the  end  of  a  dull,  gray  day  in  Novem¬ 
ber,  in  the  twilight  of  the  music-room  at  Eaincy, 
sat  Madame  Junot  singing  a  little  Spanish  folk¬ 
song,  the  few  verses  of  which  she  dreamily  re¬ 
peated  again  and  again  as  her  hands  passed 
softly  over  the  keys.  It  was  a  melancholy, 
monotonous  melody  that  faintly  died  away  in 
the  echoing  room. 

Outside,  the  fine  rain  was  loosening  the  dried 
and  withered  leaves  from  the  trees,  and  the  mist 
seemed  as  gray  as  the  faint  daylight  that  fell 
dimly  among  the  curtains.  No  fire  burned  on 
the  hearth.  Everything  was  sad  and  dark 
around  this  fair  young  woman,  whose  brilliant 


37 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Oriental  costume  shone  in  peculiar  contrast  to 
this  November  day. 

Madame  Juuot  rose  from  the  piano,  still  hum¬ 
ming,  and  turned  to  the  window,  tapping  im¬ 
patiently  on  the  pane.  Her  husband  had  come 
home  earlier  than  usual,  and  she  was  waiting  to 
speak  with  him  before  dinner,  for  he  was  to  return 
to  Paris  immediately  after  the  meal.  Why  was 
he  so  long  in  coming  !  Hadn’t  he  told  her  some 
time  since  that  he  would  be  down  in  a  few 
minutes  ? 

She  suddenly  drew  a  bracelet  from  her  pocket 
and  examined  it  closely  in  the  gray  light.  It 
was  much  too  large  for  her  own  arm;  the  orna¬ 
mentation  was  artistically  braided  blond  hair, 
set  in  gold  filigree.  She  would  like  to  know 
where  he  got  it! 

She  hid  it  quickly  when  she  heard  Junot’ s  steps 
as  he  walked  quickly  through  the  large  salon  to 
his  wife,  whom  he  embraced  and  tenderly  kissed. 

Why  did  you  not  stay  up -stairs  to  chat  a 
little  with  me  ?  .  .  .  I  never  see  you  nowa¬ 
days — and,  besides,  I  had  a  lot  of  gay  stories  for 
you  to-day.” 

Madame  Junot  smiled  coldly,  while  she  with¬ 
drew  herself  a  little  impatiently  from  his  arms. 
38 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Without  noticing  her  bad  humor,  he  com¬ 
menced — in  an  unrestrained  manner,  laughing 
like  a  frisky  boy — to  tell  her  the  news  from  the 
city.  He  had  an  especially  large  fund  of  gossip 
about  Madame  de  Talleyrand,  who  was,  at  the 
present,  the  terror  and  Mte  noire  of  the  court, 
and  upon  whom  he  had  called  the  day  before. 

Laurette  listened  silently;  but  as  she  heard 
his  clear,  happy  voice,  his  sarcastic,  flippant 
words,  she  was  wrought  to  a  nervous  pitch  of 
uncontrollable  anger.  Turning  suddenly  upon 
him,  she  took  the  bracelet  from  her  pocket. 

“Is  this  yours?”  she  asked,  quickly,  as  she 
held  it  before  him. 

The  Governor  of  Paris  flushed.  He  knit  his 
brow,  but  did  not  look  up  at  his  Avife. 

^‘Be  sure  to  take  it!”  she  said,  angrily, 
throwing  it  upon  the  table.  “I  am  sure  that  it 
is  not  for  my  sake  that  her  Highness  has  sacri¬ 
ficed  her  tresses  !  ’  ’ 

He  did  not  speak,  but  took  her  forcibly  by 
the  wrists.  She  fearlessly  looked  him  straight 
in  the  eyes,  although  he  held  her  so  tightly  that 
it  pained  her. 

Ah,  you  think  that  I  do  not  know  Caroline 
Bonaparte?  Eemember  that  she  has  been  my 


39 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

best  friend  !  ’  ’  She  emphasized  her  words  iron¬ 
ically.  “But  if  you  imagine  that  it  is  on  ac¬ 
count  of  your  handsome  eyes  that  she  makes  a 
fool  of  herself,  you  are  very  much  mistaken.” 

“What  in  the  world  do  you  mean  by  this  folly, 
Laurette'?”  Junot  pushed  her  scornfully  away 
from  him  and  spoke  with  great  dignity.  “  I  do 
not  understand  a  word  of  all  this.” 

“No,  that  is  just  what  I  say — you  do  not  un¬ 
derstand.  But  I  understand;  she  never  deceives 
me.”  Madame  Junot  gazed  angrily  at  him  with 
her  large  eyes  from  the  other  side  of  the  table, 
where  she  stood  with  her  arms  folded — as  was 
her  habit  when  angry. 

“Have  you  fully  considered  that  you  are  now 
the  Governor  of  Paris  ?  That  you  have  greater 
authority  than  any  of  the  other  Governors — yes, 
even  more  than  the  Duke  of  Brissac  had  ?  You 
are  chief  of  a  garrison  which  numbers  80, 000  men ; 
you  rule  over  Paris,  the  most  important  point  in 
the  empire;  you  are  the  Emperor’s  friend,  his 
First  Adjutant,  who,  whenever  you  like — be  it 
day  or  night — has  a  right  to  go  in  and  out  of  his 
tent.  Have  you  really  thought  what  a  power¬ 
ful  man  you  are,  Junot  ?  ’  ’ 

“  I  do  not  see  what  all  this  has  to  do  with  the 


40 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


bracelet — which  you  have  ...”  He  did  not 
finish  the  words  that  were  upon  his  lips. 

I  honestly  found  it  upon  the  floor  of  my  own 
bedroom,”  she  said,  coldly;  ‘‘and  as  no  one 
comes  there  but  you — then  ...” 

Junot  mumbled  something  about  the  infernal 
darkness  and  rang  for  a  light.  Two  lackies 
entered  with  a  couple  of  tall  silver  lamps  and 
placed  them  on  either  side  of  the  clock,  while  the 
Governor  of  Paris  impatiently  paced  the  floor. 

‘  ‘  Have  you  finished,  Laurette  ?  ’  ’  He  stopped 
and  looked  at  the  clock.  “There  is  no  reason 
for  letting  the  dinner  get  cold.” 

“  I  have  finished,  ”  she  answered,  with  dignity; 
“for  it  is  difficult  to  continue  when  one  does  not 
receive  an  answer.” 

‘  ‘  An  answer  ?  ”  he  questioned.  ‘  ‘  Why  should 
I  try  to  answer  such  nonsense  1  You  evidently 
think  that  all  women  are  as  great  adepts  at 
scheming  as  you.  Princess  Caroline  has  done 
us  the  honor  to  give  its  her  friendship — yes, 
friendship”  (he  said  the  words  threateningly), 
“and  this,  which  you  seem  to  appreciate  so  lit¬ 
tle,  I  thankfully  receive.  ’  ’ 

“Eemember,  then,  that  I  have  warned  you  !  ” 
she  said. 


41 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

“  Warned!  Dear  Laurette,  haven’t  I  been  in 
greater  dangers  than  this  ?  ’  ’  He  almost  laughed 
with  scorn  in  his  auger  and  vexation. 

‘^Ah!  it  is  not  the  Princess’  yellow  hair  and 
white  arms  against  which  I  warn  you — I  know 
that  they  would  not  move  you  in  the  least.  Be¬ 
ware  of  her  plans!  They  are  directly  opposed 
to  Napoleon’s;  they  mean  mischief!” 

“Again!”  he  exclaimed,  sarcastically.  The 
clock  on  the  mantel  struck  six.  The  Governor’s 
wife  proudly  passed  her  husband,  who  silently 
offered  her  his  hand  to  escort  her  to  the  table; 
she  took  it  without  speaking,  and  thus,  hand  in 
hand,  they  silently  passed  the  servants,  who  cere¬ 
moniously  opened  the  doors  before  them. 

At  coffee,  in  the  little  salon,  the  Governor  of 
Paris  remarked,  with  some  distinctness,  that  he 
had  promised  to  spend  the  evening  at  the  ^jlysee. 
No  one  objected  to  this — not  even  when  he  added 
the  statement  that,  in  all  probability,  he  would 
not  be  home  during  the  next  day. 

That  night  Madame  Junot  found  the  bracelet 
still  on  the  table  in  the  music-room.  She  put 
it  aside — among  her  own  jewelry — and  it  was 
never  claimed. 


42 


IV 


Vous  devez  vous  soumettre  (disait-il  tl 
Josephine)  a  toutes  mes  fantaisies  et 
trouver  tout  simple  que  je  me  donne  de 
pareilles  distractions  .  .  .  J’ai  le  droit  de 
rfipondre  6.  toutes  vos  plaintes  par  un 
eternel  m  o  i. 

M4m.  de  Mme.  de  R^musat. 

L’Empereur  se  disait  convaincu  qu’il 
avait  ete  ce  qu’elle  (Josephine)  aimait  le 
mieux.  Et  il  ajoutait  en  riant,  qu’il  ne 
doutait  pas  qu’elle  n’eut  quitte  un  ren- 
dez-vous  d’amour  pour  venir  auprSs  de 
lui. 

M6moriaI  de  Ste  HfepENB. 


MPEESS  Josephine  had  Just  finished 
■vrith  her  friseur ;  and,  ’v^rapped  in  a 
richly  trimmed  tea-gown,  she  was 
seated  at  ease  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  while 
there  were  exhibited  before  her  many  dresses, 
shawls,  and  hats  from  which  to  choose  her  cos¬ 
tume  for  the  day.  The  hats  rested  in  uphol¬ 
stered  baskets  that  were  especially  made  for  the 
purpose,  the  dresses  ou  forms  that  showed  their 
style  and  materials  to  advantage. 

Beside  the  Empress  stood  her  dame  d’atours, 
her  niece,  the  Countess  de  la  Valette  ,*  but 


43 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Josephine  consulted  no  one  in  making  her  selec¬ 
tions,  for  she  now  devoted  her  chief  attention  to 
dress — an  occupation  that  consumed  the  greater 
part  of  each  day.  Her  early  toilet  was  made 
behind  carefully  closed  doors,  and  consisted  of 
an  elaborate  and  artistic  application  of  all  the 
cosmetics  of  the  day — ^many  of  them  prepared 
with  much  mystery  for  her  particular  and 
special  use. 

The  Empress  had  become,  from  year  to  year, 
more  exacting  in  her  luxuries,  until  she  was 
now  at  the  point  where  she  changed  her  linen 
three  times  a  day;  wore  a  pair  of  silk  stockings 
but  once;  and  even  her  elaborate  gowns  seldom 
more  than  once.  Owing  to  the  fact  that  she 
never  gave  away  any  of  her  wearing-apparel, 
she  had  great  storerooms  full  of  beautiful 
dresses,  and  she  possessed  a  collection  of  laces, 
shawls,  and  jewelry  which  would  compare  well 
with  that  of  any  Oriental  ruler. 

On  this  particular  morning,  late  in  February, 
1807,  the  Empress  received  her  friends  inform¬ 
ally  in  her  private  room,  in  the  midst  of  such  a 
wealth  of  display  of  things  feminine  that  the 
greatest  animation  pervaded  the  group  of  callers. 
Josephine  was  never  happier  than  when  she  had 


44 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


put  formality  aside  and  was  plain  Madame 
Bonaparte  in  her  most  intimate  circle;  and  now 
that  the  Emperor  was  away,  she  relieved  her 
visitors  from  the  restraint  of  court  etiquette. 

Among  her  friends  she  received  no  one  with 
more  cordiality  than  Madame  Junot,  whose  re¬ 
cent  arrival  with  her  household  at  the  Champs- 
^llysees  placed  her  once  more  in  contact  with  her 
old  acquaintance,  to  whom  she  was  just  now  a 
more  interesting  personage  than  usual.  Joseph¬ 
ine  embraced  Laurette,  and  inquired  with  genu¬ 
ine  interest  about  her  children — especially  about 
her  goddaughter,  Josephine,  who  was  a  great 
favorite  with  the  Empress. 

She  then  asked  Madame  Junot’ s  opinion  re¬ 
garding  the  peacock-blue  jacket  which  was  pro¬ 
posed  to  go  with  a  rose-colored  costume;  for  the 
fashion  that  season  was,  more  than  ever.  Oriental: 
short,  open  silk  jackets  in  strong  colors,  hanging 
over  richly  embroidered  skirts  of  airy  materials, 
with  muslin  turbans  for  the  head.  Madame 
Junot,  who  was  noted  for  her  good  taste,  con¬ 
sidered  the  weighty  question,  and  advised  her 
with  much  interest  and  pleasure. 

At  last,  her  Majesty  had  made  her  choice  and 
was  ready  to  join  the  ladies  of  the  court  who 


45 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

were  gathered  in  the  dressing-room.  Standing 
in  groups,  laughing  and  chatting,  they  had,  after 
their  greetings  to  the  Empress,  spread  around 
the  large  room.  The  Marshals’  wives  told  news 
from  headquarters,  at  Warsaw,  and,  as  they 
glanced  at  Josephine,  they  indulged  in  much 
laughing  by-play  and  stage  whispers. 

The  Empress  sent  her  ladies  away  after  a  while, 
but  begged  Madame  Junot  to  remain — pretend¬ 
ing  that  she  wished  to  show  her  some  magnifi¬ 
cent  new  shawls  which  she  had  recently  bought. 
She  let  Mademoiselle  Avrillou  walk  ahead  of 
them  into  the  large  wardrobe,  where  her  Majesty 
often  spent  hours  in  conference  with  her  milliners 
and  tailors,  and  where  she  was  always  sure  of 
being  undisturbed. 

Laurette  felt  at  once  that  there  was  some¬ 
thing  that  troubled  the  Empress,  who  seemed 
absent-minded  and  somewhat  artificial  in  her 
manner,  though  she  had  been  friendly  and  gra¬ 
cious,  as  usual.  And  Laurette  had  observed  also 
that  she  had  been  rather  cool  toward  one  of  the 
ladies  of  Princess  Caroline’s  court.  Madame 
Junot  could  not  understand  why  Josephine 
should  choose  her  as  a  confidant,  as  they  had 
never  been  very  intimate;  but  it  was  clear  that 


46 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


she  longed  to  lighten  her  heart  of  some  anxiety 
or  other. 

After  the  Empress  had  indifferently  let  her 
admire  the  shawls,  she  gave  Mademoiselle  Avril- 
lon  to  understand,  by  an  imi)atient  movement  of 
her  hand,  that  she  should  remove  them.  When 
they  were  alone  she  drew  Madame  Junot  to  a 
seat  beside  her  on  the  little  settee,  which  was 
arranged  quite  cozily  between  the  richly  draped 
window  and  one  of  the  colossal  cabinets  of  the 
room.  She  then  commenced,  a  little  forced,  as 
she  laid  her  hand  upon  Laurette’s  shoulder: 

“I  know,  dear  Madame  Junot,  that  I  can 
trust  you  .  .  .  that  you  can  judge  au  affair  with 
tact,  and”  (she  looked  up),  ‘^and,  if  necessary, 
keep  it  a  secret.  ’  ’ 

Laurette  bent  forward  and  laid  her  hand  upon 
her  heart.  “Your  Majesty,  it  is  not  necessary 
for  me  to  assure  you  that  .  .  .  ” 

“Yes,  I  know  that,  I  know  that,”  interrupted 
the  Empress,  in  the  impetuous  manner  peculiar 
to  her  when  she  was  angry. 

Then  she  added,  abruptly:  “Do  you  visit 
much  with  Madame  Murat  ?  Has  she  not  told 
you  the  great  news  ?  ’  ’ 

Madame  Junot  was  abashed  at  her  directness. 


47 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

and  di'opped  her  eyes  before  the  restless,  search¬ 
ing  glance  of  the  Empress,  though  she  managed 
to  say,  with  some  show  of  curiosity: 

“What  news,  your  Majesty?  I  do  not  under¬ 
stand  .  . 

“Oh,  you  know  it;  I  can  see  that  you  know 
it !  ”  said  Josephine,  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands.  Then  bending  forward,  she  whispered, 
“  Bonaparte  has  a  son  !  ” 

The  Empress  was  not  mistaken.  Madame 
Junot  knew  all  about  this  very  peculiar  story,  for 
Caroline  had  triumphantly  told  it  to  her  some 
time  before,  under  promise  of  secrecy;  she  always 
told  everything  to  the  right  and  left — under 
promise  of  silence,  to  be  sure  that  it  would  be 
known. 

“The  Emperor,”  Princess  Caroline  had  said — 
“yes,  there  is  no  doubt  about  it — the  Emperor 
has  an  heir.  An  old  schoolmate  of  mine  from 
Madame  Campan’s  school ;  you  must  have  known 
her — Eleonore  D6nuelle,  the  buxom  brunette. 
Well,  the  Emperor  became  greatly  infatuated 
with  her  soon  after  his  return  from  Germany.  I 
confess,”  continued  Caroline,  “that  I  followed 
this  story  with  a  certain  interest — partly  because 
Bonaparte  really  seemed  to  care  for  her,  and 


48 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


partly  because  she  had  confided  in  me  from  the 
first,  and  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  protect  her.  You 
know,  Laurette,  at  my  house” — this  was  a  re¬ 
flection  upon  the  court  of  Princess  Borghese — 
“things  seldom  happen.  My  brother  was  much 
interested  in  her  condition,  and  his  last  words  to 
me  were  to  let  him  know  at  once  should  it  be  a 
boy.  You  can  understand  how  delighted  he 
must  be  to  have  an  heir  at  last.” 

In  this  offhand  manner  Princess  Caroline  had 
related  the  story,  and  she  gave  the  impression 
that  she  did  not  think  much  of  the  matter;  but 
Laurette  read  from  her  glances  how  highly  she 
valued  its  importance,  and  she  could  now  see 
that  the  Empress  drew  the  same  conclusion: 
that  at  the  birth  of  this  child,  Josephine  was 
threatened  with  the  divorce  which  she  had  ceased 
to  fear  after  the  coronation  of  Napoleon  and 
herself,  and  their  union  with  the  Church;  but 
the  dreaded  possibility  now  loomed  again  as 
though  it  were  inevitable.  Josephine  knew  her 
husband;  she  knew  that  after  this  he  would  have 
but  one  thought:  to  have  a  legitimate  heir. 

With  bent  head,  and  without  any  effort  to 
conceal  her  grief,  the  Empress  continued  her 
sad  story,  much  to  Madame  Junot’s  distress. 


49 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

“Caroline  Murat  started  this  whole  intrigue,” 
sobbed  poor  Josephine;  “I  have  it  from  a  reli¬ 
able  source.  It  was  she  who  found  her,  and,  so 
to  speak,  exhibited  her  charms  to  Bonaparte. 
As  for  him,  this  is  merely  a  fleeting  caprice;  for 
there  is  nothing  in  this  world  which  he  fears  so 
much  as  a  woman’s  power  over  him.  At  pres¬ 
ent  he  considers  his  love  affairs  as  mere  mat¬ 
ters  of  fancy — as  diversions  after  his  work,  and 
nothing  else.  That  is  why  I  have  permitted 
them  so  long.  Ah,  yes,  Madame  Junot” — she 
carefully  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes — 
“what  must  we  women  not  suffer  !  ” 

Laurette  winced  at  the  suggestion  of  these 
words,  and  straightened  herself  involuntarily. 
How  she  wished  that  she  might  end  the  conver¬ 
sation!  How  hot  and  close  the  room  seemed! 

The  Empress  noticed  Madame  Junot’ s  agita¬ 
tion,  and,  looking  over  her  handkerchief  at  her, 
forgot  her  own  sorrow  for  a  moment. 

“You  know,  Madame  Junot,  I  have  always 
been  your  friend — and  Junot’ s,  too,  though  he 
would  never  believe  it — and  I  wish  to  warn  you 
against  Madame  Murat!  ” 

Laurette  was  silent,  playing  nervously  with 
the  lace  trimming  of  her  dress,  pained  to  think 


50 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


that  a  stranger  should  have  reason  to  speak  to 
her  in  this  manner — and  to  pity  her. 

The  Empress  peeped  cautiously  at  her  with 
dry  eyes.  “  And  now,  my  dear  friend,  I  should 
like  to  ask  .  .  .  Do  you  know  whether  the 
Princess  has  already  sent  a  courier  to  Napo¬ 
leon?  .  .  .” 

Yes,”  answered  Madame  Junot. 

‘‘Oh,  God!”  grieved  Josephine,  wringing 
her  hands.  “And  just  now — when  I  felt  so 
secure,  and  happy  that  Eugene  had  such  a  grand 
position;  and  I  had  thought  that  Hortense’s 
boys  would  be  to  Bonaparte  all  that  his  own 
might  have  been  to  him.  I  know  what  an  im¬ 
pression  this  will  make  upon  him!  I  know  him! 
He  has  put  a  crown  upon  his  own  head;  he 
wishes  this  to  be  inherited  by  his  own  flesh  and 
blood.” 

Madame  Junot  tried,  as  best  she  could,  to 
comfort  the  Empress;  she  herself  was  almost 
exhausted  after  this  scene,  and  only  wished  to 
get  away.  At  last  Josephine  arose. 

“Will  you  do  me  a  favor,  Madame  Junot?” 
said  the  Empress,  taking  her  by  the  hand  as  she 
rose.  “I  cannot  ask  any  of  my  ladies  about  this 
child,  for  the  Princess  trusts  none  of  them,  nor 


51 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

has  she  friendship  for  any  of  themj  but  you — - 
for  you  she  will  do  anything  at  present.”  Lau- 
rette  again  felt  the  blush  of  bitter  humiliation 
upon  her  forehead.  '^The  boy  has  been  given 
to  Achilles’  nurse,  Madame  Loir,”  continued  the 
Empress.  “Will  you  not  try  to  see  him?  .  .  .” 
She  stopped  to  think  a  moment.  “And  tell 
me  —  please  give  me  a  detailed  description  of 
his  looks  —  tell  me  whether  he  resembles  his 
father.” 

Laurette  was  deeply  moved  with  sympathy 
for  this  wife  who  was  alone  in  her  solitary 
grandeur.  She  kissed  the  Empress’  hand  and 
said,  “I  shall  do  all  that  your  Majesty  wishes.” 

With  a  very  thoughtful  face,  and  with  the 
artificial,  diplomatic  air  which  his  wife  knew  so 
well,  Junot  came  home  one  forenoon  from  the 
Tuileries,  where  he  had  breakfasted  with  the 
Empress.  In  his  handsome,  open  face,  that  she 
had  learned  to  read  as  a  book,  she  could  see, 
when  he  knit  his  brow  and  pressed  his  lips 
together,  that  he  was  pondering  some  state 
^cret  which  would  not  remain  long  secret  from 
her. 

When  he  entered  her  room  a  little  before  din- 


52 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


ner,  she  put  aside  her  favorite  volume  for  the 
question  she  knew  would  be  broached. 

“Weill”  she  said,  inquiringly. 

“Well,”  he  began,  hesitatingly,  pulling  at  his 
vest  and  backing  against  the  mantel,  as  though 
for  support,  ‘  ‘  can  you  guess  why  she  wished  to 
see  me  ?  ’  ’ 

Madame  Junot  shook  her  head. 

“She  is  anxious  to  secure  my  support  for 
Eugene,  if  .  .  .  Yes,  you  understand;  if  the 
Emperor  .  .  .  God  forbid  it !  ” 

“Has  she,  too,  stooped  to  schemes  and  in¬ 
trigues'?  ”  exclaimed  Madame  Junot,  ironically. 
“One  might  easily  believe  that  all  these  silly 
dames  had  learned  their  lesson  in  the  same 
school,  they  agree  so  well  in  their  desires  and 
methods.” 

Junot  did  not  seem  to  hear  her,  pushing,  as  he 
did  absent-mindedly,  at  a  log  on  the  hearth. 

“What  did  she  say  ■?  ” 

“Oh,  she  managed  her  approach  very 
adroitly.  She  began  by  flattering  me,  and 
spoke  how  Napoleon  had  always  displayed  ex¬ 
ceptional  friendshii)  for  me,  etc.,  etc.;  and  she 
complained  because  he  could  not  have  his  true 
friends  about  him  in  times  of  danger;  and  that 


53 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

lie  risked  kis  life  in  every  battle,  like  the  com- 
mouest  soldiers ;  aud  .  . 

“Well,  she  reached,  then,  the — ” 

“Yes,  then  came  the  qnestion  that  she  had  at 
heart.  She  asked  me  if  I  believed  that  the 
France  he  had  created  would  ever  fall  back 
again  into  the  anarchy  of  the  Directorate.  Be¬ 
sides,  did  I  think  there  was  any  one  strong 
enough  to  inherit  it.” 

‘  ‘  And  you  answered  ?  ’  ’  asked  Madame  Junot, 
breathlessly,  as  she  raised  herself  on  her  elbow. 

“I  told  her,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  this 
calamity  was  warded  off  by  the  Emperor  and  the 
Senate;  that  the  King  of  Naples,  Prince  Louis, 
and  his  sons — yes,  even  Jerome — fully  secured 
the  succession.  On  the  other  hand,  she  didn’t 
believe  that  the  army  would  tolerate  any  such 
arrangement,  and  thought  that  a  guardian  rul¬ 
ing  for  the  little  Napoleon  was  quite  impossible 
under  the  present  condition.  She  thought  that 
perhaps  Prince  Eugene,  who  is  so  well  liked  by 
the  army,  and  so  popular  in  both  France  and 
Italy  .  .  .  But  you  readily  understand  what 
she  wanted.” 

Laurette  for  a  moment  played  idly  with  the 
fringe  of  her  dress. 


54 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘Yes,  I  understand.  .  .  .  And  Murat?” 
she  asked,  suddenly  opening  her  eyes  and  flash¬ 
ing  them  straight  at  her  husband.  “What  does 
the  future  hold  for  Murat  and  the  Princess 
Caroline  ?  ’  ’ 


65 


V 


“  O,  la  drole  de  tete  1  ” 

Mme.  JuNOT  de  la  Princess  Pauline. 


s  A  surprise  to  Madame  Junot  upon 
lier  return  from  Eaincy,  her  husband 
had  had  her  chamber  redecorated  and 
furnished  in  the  grand  style  of  the  Empire — ma¬ 
hogany,  with  bronze  ornaments;  and  the  heavy 
draperies  at  the  windows  and  around  the  bed 
were  dark  green.  But  the  effect  was  too  heavy 
and  somber — Junot  himself  admitted  that  the 
room  looked  more  like  a  tomb  of  a  king  than 
the  shrine  of  his  love.  Every  piece  of  the  fur¬ 
nishings,  however,  had  been  designed  by  a  Per- 
cier  or  a  Fontaine,  and  had  won  for  its  style 
and  elegance  the  praise  of  all  who  had  seen  the 
room. 

Laurette’s  little  head  still  nestled  quietly  on 
the  big  lace  pillow,  though  it  had  long  been 
day.  Her  cheek  rested  lightly  on  her  folded 
hands,  while  she  gazed  dreamily  at  the  door. 
56 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


The  curtains  were  still  drawn,  and  upon  a  black 
marble  column,  above  the  steps  leading  to  the 
bed,  there  still  burned  dimly  an  antique  veil- 
leuse. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  stir,  and  the  noise  of 
many  voices  in  the  salon  next  the  chamber. 
Laurette  listened  for  an  instant,  and  then  she 
rang  vigorously.  But  at  the  same  instant  the 
folding  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  almost 
before  the  valet  had  time  to  announce  “Son 
Altesse  Imperial  et  Royale,  Madame  la  Duchesse 
de  Guastalla,  ’  ’  Pauline  Borghese  hurried  into  the 
room  with  her  peculiar,  irregular  walk. 

‘^Lie  still,  little  Laurette!”  cried  her  Impe¬ 
rial  Highness,  climbing  on  the  great  bed  with¬ 
out  much  regard  to  her  dignity.  ‘‘You  see,  I 
have  something  of  great  importance  to  tell 
you,”  she  continued,  as  she  settled  herself 
comfortably  against  the  foot-board.  But  she 
began  with  a  complaint  of  her  own:  “Why 
don’t  you  ever  come  to  see  me,  Laurette?  Nor 
Junot,  either  ?  He  has  evidently  forgotten  how 
pretty  I  was  in  Italy.  I  am  just  as  pretty  now 
— even  prettier,”  and  she  surveyed  with  satisfiic- 
tiou  her  reflection  in  a  mirror  that  was  opposite; 

‘  ‘  but  he  never  looks — except  at  Caroline  !  al- 


67 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

ways  at  Caroline  !  Yes,  yes,  Laurette,  you  too 
may  regret  some  day  that  you  have  always  pre¬ 
ferred  Caroline  to  me  .  . 

“Bnt  your  Highness  has  something  of  great 
importance  to  tell  me,”  interposed  Madame 
Junot,  trying,  with  a  grimace,  to  draw  up  a  foot 
which  Princess  Pauline  was  almost  crushing  be¬ 
neath  her. 

“Yes,  I  have  news  for  you.  But  first,  pray 
tell  me  why  you  have  never  invited  me  to  any 
of  your  entertainments  at  Eaincy?  But  only 
Caroline!  always  Caroline!  ...  I’ll  give  you 
just  one  word  of  warning,  Laurette” — here  she 
bent  forward  and  spoke  with  the  utmost  clear¬ 
ness — “Caroline  hasn’t  the  least  idea  of  tact  or 
discretion.” 

Though  Madame  Junot  felt  keenly  the  sugges¬ 
tion  hidden  in  these  words,  she  could  not  help 
laughing  to  hear  the  Princess  speak  of  “tact 
and  discretion.” 

“But,  your  Highness,”  she  said,  in  a  consol¬ 
ing  voice,  “hunting  is  the  only  pleasure  we 
have  to  offer  our  guests  at  Eaincy.  You  do 
not  ride,  and  you  dislike  to  be  driven  about  in 
a  calash  ;  .  .” 

“I  could  be  carried  around  in  a  palanquin 


58 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


.  .  proudly  suggested  tlie  Princess ;  and 
then,  as  they  pictured  such  a  scene,  both  ladies 
laughed  gaily. 

‘‘What  have  you  done  with  your  husband 
this  morning,  little  Laurette?  I  thought  you 
always  shared  the  same  room — you  certainly  did 
when  you  lived  in  Eue  de  Verneuil.  Where  is 
Junot  ?  I  suppose  he  will  come  to  bid  me  good¬ 
morning,  for  I  am  one  of  his  oldest  friends. 
You  can’t  imagine  how  deeply  he  was  in  love 
with  me  when  we  were  at  Marseilles,  and  later 
too,  especially  in  Italy.” 

Madame  Junot,  ringing,  inquired  for  “Mon¬ 
seigneur.  ’  ’ 

He  had  gone  out. 

“That  looks  as  though  he  is  in  the  habit  of 
paying  early  visits,”  said  the  Princess,  opening 
her  eyes  and  assuming  a  severe  expression. 
“Eeally,  Laurette,  you  should  not  permit  such 
a  state  of  affairs.” 

“  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  for  you,  madame  ?  ” 
answered  Madame  Junot,  sharply,  in  order  to 
cover  her  distress  and  the  tears  that  already 
threatened  to  fall. 

“Why,  how  stupid  you  look!  You  know  as 
well  as  I  what  great  influence  he  has  at  the  fily- 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

s4e;  and,  of  course,  lie  lias  been  called  to  confer 
with  Caroline  about  our  comedy.  Haven’t 
you  heard  that  we  shall  give  a  comedy,  as  well 
as  ‘The  Barber  of  Seville,’  on  St.  Joseph’s  day, 
the  19th  of  March  ?  The  comedy  is  especially 
in  honor  of  the  Empress,  and  you  must  take 
part  in  it,  too.  Why,  of  course  you  must  take 
part,  Laurette  !  ’  ’ 

“  But,  madame,  you  forget  my  condition.” 

“Your  condition!  Well,  I’ll  see  to  it  that 
Caroline  selects  a  part  for  you  in  which  your 
condition  will  not  show.  She  is  to  be  the  hero¬ 
ine,  Caroline,  and  Junot  has  been  cast  for  the 
part  of  the  hero,  whose  name,  by  the  way,  is 
Charles.  The  story  is  something  about  the 
Emperor’s  victories — about  Jena  and  Eylau.  It 
will  be  something  grand  !  ” 

“But  I  am  to  be  Bosina  in  ‘The  Barber  of 
Seville,’  which  will  be  given  first  that  evening. 
Don’t  you  think  that  my  costume  will  be  becom¬ 
ing  to  me?  I  am  to  have  a  rose-colored  hat 
with  large  black  feathers,  and  a  short  skirt  of 
rose  silk,  and  a  black  lace  apron.  Oh,  I  shall 
look  much  prettier  than  the  pale  Hortense  did, 
when  she  played  that  part  at  Malmaison  four  or 
five  years  ago!  You  recall  that  night,  don’t 


60 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


you,  with  Bourrienne  and  Savary?  But  what 
am  I  thinking  of  ?  ” 

Princess  Pauline  started  up  and  pulled  all 
three  of  the  hell-cords  that  hung  against  the 
wall. 

^^Tou  haven’t  yet  seen  my  new  Chamberlain, 
Laurette  !  ” 

To  the  lackey  and  two  maids  who  rushed  in 
at  this  moment  she  called: 

“Show  in  the  gentleman  who  is  waiting  in 
the  salon  !  ” 

The  lackey  again  threw  open  the  door,  and  in 
his  most  solemn  tone  announeed: 

“Monsieur  de  Forbin.” 

As  though  he  were  shot  out  of  a  cannon,  M. 
de  Forbin  came  into  the  room,  bowing  very  se¬ 
riously  to  the  two  ladies  on  the  bed.  Princess 
Pauline  smiled,  and,  with  a  gracious  movement 
of  the  hand,  she  turned  to  Madame  Junot. 

“There  he  is,  Laurette,”  she  said,  in  a  voice 
intended  to  pass  for  a  whisper.  “  What  do  you 
think  of  him,  little  friend?” 

The  Princess’  new  Chamberlain  heard  what 
she  said  as  well  as  Madame  Junot.  He  was 
really  a  handsome  fellow — tall,  graceful,  and 
elegant.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he 


61 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

had  been  called  simply  to  be  exhibited  as  an  ex¬ 
ample  of  Princess  Pauline’s  good  taste.  He 
blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  and  remained 
standing  in  the  same  position,  with  his  head  a 
little  bent. 

Pauline  Bonaparte  surveyed  the  handsome 
fellow  closely,  smiled  graciously,  and,  beckon¬ 
ing  to  him,  said: 

“Monsieur  de  Forbin,  will  you  be  so  kind  as 
to  help  me  down  from  here  ?  Yes,  so — ^thanks  !  ’  ’ 

She  leaned  heavily  upon  his  arm,  and  bent 
down  once  more  over  Madame  Junot.  “Well, 
my  pigeon,  I  shall  see  you  again  at  the  first 
rehearsal  at  the  ^llysee.”  She  kissed  Laurette, 
and  whispered  again — this  time  in  Italian : 
“Look  at  him!  Snch  a  back! — such  a  car¬ 
riage  ! — such  a  pair  of  legs  .  .  .  !  What  do 
you  think,  little  Laurette  ?  ’  ’ 

When  Junot  came  home  the  day  of  Princess 
Pauline’s  call,  he  discovered  his  wife  in  her  room 
busy  arranging  some  flowers  in  a  tall  alabaster 
vase  that  adorned  the  mantel.  As  he  drew  near 
her,  he  failed  to  win  any  welcoming  glance  from 
her,  and  for  a  time  had  to  content  himself  with 
watching  her  at  her  task. 

62 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘Tour  old  friend  Pauline,  the  Prineess  Bor- 
ghese,  left  her  regards  for  you  this  morning,” 
she  began,  at  length. 

‘^Yes? — thanks!  I  am  glad  they  are  not 
from  Prince  Borghese  ” — his  voice  sounded 
forced  and  unnatural,  aud  he  fixed  his  gaze 
sharply  upon  Laurette’s  profile. 

She  shook  her  head  indifferently.  “Prince 
Borghese  !  Why  should  you  think  of  him  now  ? 
Oh,  no;  he  is  a  sensible  fellow,  and  will  wait  a 
few  months  before  he  continues  his  advances. 
We  shall  then  see  what  they  lead  to,  when  the 
fort  is  no  longer  enceinte.  ’  ’ 

“  What  sort  of  language  is  this  !  Must  I  listen 
to  this  from  you  too,  Laurette?”  he  asked, 
sharply,  knitting  his  brow. 

“  It  is  the  language  that  my  high-born  friends, 
their  Imperial  Highnesses,  Princess  Borghese  and 
the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve,  teach 
me,”  she  answered,  in  a  nonchalant  manner^ 
holding  one  of  the  rose  stems  in  her  teeth. 
“Besides,  since  you  are  the  only  one  who  hears 
these  tales  of  mine,  I  surely  might  be  allowed 
to  boast  a  little  when  I  have  a  royal  admirer.” 

“I  don’t  catch  your  meaning.” 

“I  don’t  mean  anything,  my  dear.  I  have 


63 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

just  told  you  that  niy  admirer  has,  for  the 
present,  ...  I  should  say,  rather,  I  have  no 
chance  with  him.  Meantime  I  have  nothing 
else  to  do  but  to  put  on  my  best  visiting  cos¬ 
tume  and  drive  to  the  ^llys6e,  where  I  have  been 
ordered  by  Princess  Caroline — probably  to  hear 
a  lecture  about  how  I  should  behave  !  ” 

Juuot  sat  down  near  the  window  and  drummed 
nervously  on  the  table. 

“Listen,  Laurette” — he  clutched  her  arm  as 
she  passed  him — “what  has  Princess  Pauline 
said  to  anger  you  so?  Now  .  .  .”  He  firmly 
held  her  by  her  elbows  with  both  hands,  and 
looked  searchingly  into  her  eyes. 

Laurette  laughed  —  with  a  clear,  taunting 
laugh.  ^  ^  Nothing !  Why  should  you  think  that 
she  would  say  anything  to  excite  me?  She  is 
good  nature  and  amiability  personified.  She 
was  so  charming  that  she  even  compelled  me  to 
take  part  in  a  comedy  which  Caroline  and  you 
are  arranging.  She  seemed  a  little  sui-prised 
that  I  did  not  know  anything  about  it,  and  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  probably  to  save 
me  that  you  had  kept  it  so  quiet.  ’  ’ 

Junot  dropped  his  wife’ s  arm.  ‘  ‘  Certainly  !  ’  ’ 
he  said,  bruskly. 

64 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘And  I  thank  you  for  your  consideration,” 
continued  Madame  Juuot,  quietly.  “It  would 
not  be  i:»leasant  for  me  to  appear  just  now  side 
by  side  with  Princess  Caroline;  but  it  looks 
as  though  her  Highness  wishes  to  place  me  at 
that  disadvantage,  because  she  has  sent  me  a 
summons  that  sounds  very  much  like  a  com¬ 
mand.” 

Madame  Junot  had  now  entirely  forgotten  her 
assumed  satirical  coldness,  and  was  becoming 
very  angry. 

“I  will  not  be  the  setting  for  a  tableau  that 
shall  glorify  the  touching  love  of  Charles  and 
Caroline,'’'^  she  said,  suddenly,  full  of  wrath. 

Junot  was  quite  as  angry  as  she,  as  he  paced 
the  floor  with  rapid  steps. 

‘  ‘  It  appears  that  you  think  it  is  I  who  will 
force  you  to  take  part  in  this  comedy  !  I  can 
assure  you  of  the  opposite,  as  I  have  done 
all  .  .  .” 

“You  need  not  assure  me  of  your  objection. 
I  can  readily  understand  why  yo.u  wished  to  be 
rid  of  me  at  the  rehearsals,”  she  coldly  inter¬ 
rupted. 

Junot  turned  and  looked  sternly  at  her  as  she 
stood  by  the  window,  her  back  to  the  light, 

C5 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

with  one  hand  resting  on  the  marble  table.  She 
stood  there — so  small  and  delicate,  with  her 
heavy  burden — and  he  could  see  that  she  nerv¬ 
ously  tried  to  keep  from  breaking  down  and 
bursting  into  tears  at  his  glances.  He  stepped 
quickly  up  to  her,  took  her  tenderly  around  her 
shoulders,  and  gently  laid  her  head  upon  his 
breast. 

My  poor  Laura,”  he  said,  quietly,  “you— 
you  don’t  know  how  you  pain  me.  .  .  .” 

She  sobbed  deeply  and  convulsively  for  a  short 
time.  Than  she  controlled  herself,  lifted  her 
head,  and  looked  up  at  him  with  her  large  brown 
eyes,  that  so  honestly  reflected  every  thought  of 
her  soul. 

‘  ‘  Come,  ’  ’  she  said,  “  let  us  speak  frankly  with 
each  other.  This  state  of  affairs  is  unbearable 
and — and — unworthy  ...” 

Together  they  sat  down  upon  a  sofa  that  was 
placed  under  a  mirror,  his  arm  still  resting 
lightly  about  her  shoulders. 

“I  do  not  ask  you  to  be  sincere,”  she  con¬ 
tinued  in  a  low  tone,  as  she  dried  her  eyes. 
“I  know  it  isn’t  the  fashion — that  it  isn’t 
knightly  to  be  sincere — that  it  isn’t  good  form. 
And  I  expect  to  live  up  to  the  demands  of  the 


66 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


times.  I  realize  that  a  man  must  keep  silent 
while  he  plays  the  part  of  cavalier  to  a  lady, 
even  though  there  is  a  knife  at  his  throat.  I 
would  not  have  you,  for  my  sake.  .  .  .  No,  do 
not  speak!  It  isn’t  necessary — I  have  good 
eyes.  You  know  that  I  have  suffered  much — 
but  the  women  of  my  set  must  suffer.  And 
though  it  has  been  harder  for  me  than  for  some 
of  the  rest,  1  have  been  able  to  endure  it.  I  am 
your  wife;  and  in  the  depths  of  my  heart  I  know 
that,  though  I  have  a  hundred  rivals,  your  love 
for  me  is  honest  and  noble.  Just  because  I  am 
your  wife,  I  do  not  envy  any  of  my  rivals.” 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  up  at  him 
almost  archly.  “Yet,”  she  said,  “I  am  the 
only  woman  in  the  world  whose  life  you  would 
take  with  your  own  hand.  If  I  were  unfaithful 
to  you — if  you  found  me  in  the  arms  of  another, 
— you  would  kill  me,  although  you  would  treat 
lightly  the  unfaithfulness  of  a  lady-love  for 
whose  ‘  honor  ’  you  would  give  your  life.  But 
just  because  I  am  your  wife,  I  do  not  envy  any 
of  my  rivals.” 

He  did  not  answer,  but  he  bent  down  arid 
tenderly  kissed  the  little  hand  which  rested 
lightly  on  his  arm. 


67 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

^  ‘  So  long  as  it  concerned  only  my  own  happi¬ 
ness,”  she  continued,  “I  have  not  complained; 
I  know  that  in  war  a  man  seldom  remains  true 
— yes,  you  cannot  say  that  I  have  taken  this  too 
sentimentally.  I  have  not  bothered  you  with 
petty  jealousies.  ’ ’ 

‘‘It  has  not  often  been  necessary,  Laurette,” 
said  he,  smilingly.  “Taking  it  altogether,  you 
have  held  me  so  securely  that  there  have  been 
times  that  I  did  not  even  care  to  look  at  other 
women.  Who  was  like  you?  Who  could  en¬ 
chant  and  love  like  you  ?  ...” 

A  faint  smile  flitted  over  Madame  Junot’s 
face,  and  she  lifted  her  handkerchief  to  her  lips 
to  conceal  it.  He  saw  this,  however,  and,  jubi¬ 
lantly  happy  over  this  sign  of  forgiveness,  he 
tore  the  lace  handkerchief  from  her  hand  and 
lovingly  kissed  the  sweet,  telltale  lips. 

“Laurette,  my  own,  you  must  not  be  harsh 
with  me.  You  know  yourself  that  it  is  only 
you — you  alone — who  means  anything  to  me! 
Without  you  life  would  be  nothing  !  ” 

“I  know  it,”  she  said,  seriously,  “but  .  .  .” 

“  No  ‘  but  1  ’  ”  he  exclaimed,  joyously.  “Now 
you  have  given  me  a  little  bit  of  pardon,  I  can 
begin  to  live  again  and  to  hope.” 


68 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

She  laid  her  hand  over  his  mouth  and  looked 
sternly  at  him. 

‘‘I  have  not  forgiven  you — I  can  never  for¬ 
give  you.  But,  as  I  told  you,  the  question  does 
not  concern  me.  Do  you  really  not  see  that 
this  is  a  serious  matter  that  concerns  you  per¬ 
sonally  and  officially  ?  ’  ’ 

^‘What!  are  you  coming  back  to  the  same 
old  story  ?  ’  ’  said  he,  with  a  shade  of  disappoint¬ 
ment  in  his  tone. 

“Unfortunately,  more  people  than  I  have  this 
idea.  Think  of  the  consequences,  if  the  Emperor 
should  learn  of  this  intrigue,  or  even  suspect 
it !  ”  And  she  looked  anxiously  into  his  eyes. 

“Oh,  he  knows  very  well  what  sort  of  a 
woman  his  sister  is — none  better!”  exclaimed 
Junot,  reassuringly. 

“You  may  rest  certain  that  he  doesn’t  know 
the  important  affairs  .she  is  rashly  meddling  with; 
and  if  he  did,  he  would  see  to  it  that  no  one  else 
should  know  about  them  and  her  connection  with 
them.  ’  ’ 

“Don’t  believe  for  a  moment  that  the  Em¬ 
peror  is  the  only  one  in  Paris  who  does  not 
understand  his  sister  Caroline.  For,  of  course,” 
he  continued,  in  the  lofty  tone  of  one  whose 


69 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

position  with  the  Emperor  was  secure,  “any 
suspicion  would  be  about  her  alone — in  this 
case.  ’  ’ 

“Of  course  !  ”  answered  Madame  Junot,  match¬ 
ing  his  certainty  by  her  own  growing  faith. 
Then,  rising,  she  added:  “But  I  must  go  to 
the  ^Jlys6e  to  take  my  lesson  in  good  manners. 
Will  you  escort  me  V’ 

He  mumbled  something  that  was  unintelligible. 
“Surely!  You  are  right!  I  forgot  that  you 
had  been  there  once  to-day.  Aha!  after  all  the 
trouble  her  Highness  takes  with  you,  you  are 
destined  to  become  a  model  man  !  ’  ’ 


70 


VI 


Je  souhaite  k  Sa  Majeste 
D’abord  tout  ce  qu’elle  dfeire, 

Ensuite  une  bonne  sante 

Et  puis  toujours  de  quoi  pour  rire. 

Elle,  6tant  reine,  et  ne  pouvant 
Lui  souhaiter  une  couronne, 

Je  lui  souhaite  seuleraent 

Autant  de  bonheur  qu’elle  en  donnel 

Poeme  a  I’occasion  de  la  fete  de  I’lm- 
peratrice  Josephine  le  19.  mars  1807. 


N  the  19th  of  March  the  court  spent 
the  entire  day  at  Malmaisou,  The 
ladies  breakfasted  with  the  Empress 
in  the  large  dining-hall  on  the  first  floor.  Upon 
the  long  stucco  walls,  with  their  pale  nymphs 
done  in  fresco,  were  hung  garlands  of  flowers, 
and  the  table  was  adorned  with  exquisite  flow¬ 
ers  from  the  imperial  conservatories.  Her 
Majesty  had  especially  invited  the  children  to 
be  present  at  her  birthday  breakfast.  She  sat 
between  her  goddaughter,  Josephine  Junot,  and 
her  little  niece,  Princess  Lmtitia  Murat.  They 
were  each  about  five  years  old — that  age  of  re- 


71 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

freshing  innocence  and  budding  curiosity.  They 
were  revelling  in  their  unaccustomed  liberty,  or, 
rather,  license,  as  they  filled  and  refilled  their 
plates  with  the  dainty  sweetmeats. 

The  Empress  was  in  excellent  humor  to-day, 
and  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  her  troubles. 
She  had  received  from  her  husband  a  hearty  let¬ 
ter  which  she  passed  around  with  delight  so 
that  all  the  ladies  could  read  it. 

“We  are  all  longing  for  Paris,”  Napoleon 
wrote — “the  Paris  one  misses  everywhere;  and, 
to  satisfy  our  longing  for  it,  we  are  running  our¬ 
selves  out  of  breath  after  honor — after  honor 
that  is  to  be  applauded  by  an  opera  parquet.” 

“He  longs^  for  Paris.”  The  ladies  smiled 
meaningly  at  each  other,  pointing  to  the  sen¬ 
tence  as  they  passed  the  letter  from  hand  to 
hand.  They  also  had  had  news  from  headquar¬ 
ters  in  Poland,  and  knew  that  some  one  there 
did  not  speak  so  much  about  Paris  as  about  a 
certain  Madame  Walewski. 

But,  anyhow,  Josephine  was  pleased.  There 
had  also  come  costly  presents  and  good  news  from 
the  King  and  Queen  of  Hollands  But  Madame 
de  E6musat,  the  Empress’  friend  and  lady  in 
waiting,  was  far  from  being  so  delighted  as  her 
72 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


mistress.  She  shook  her  head  as  she  pointed, 
with  an  almost  tragic  air,  at^the  exquisite  portrait 
of  the  little  Prince  of  Holland.  The  picture  was 
painted  on  a  box  of  crystal,  set  in  gold  filigree, 
and  had  just  come  by  a  courier  from  The  Hague. 

“The  poor  Queen  !  ”  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  as 
she  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  ceiling.  “Her  Majesty 
does  not  know  how  unhappy  she  is,  thank  God  ! 
But  I  .  .  .  oh,  I  can  read  the  dread  message 
between  the  lines  of  her  letters.  But  in  the  face 
of  the  storm  she  is  an  angel !  ”  she  added,  with 
enthusiasm. 

In  spite  of  the  hostess’  good  humor,  the  general 
spirit  at  the  table  seemed  a  little  forced.  Madame 
Junot  was  sad,  irritable,  and  indisposed.  Prin¬ 
cess  Pauline  was  nervous;  she  was  afraid  of  her 
songs.  She  knew  that  she  sang  them  miserably, 
in  spite  of  all  flattery.  Caroline  was — goodness 
knows  why  ! — in  a  most  dreadful  humor — excited 
and  hurt.  During  the  whole  breakfast  she  kept 
making  sarcastic  remarks  to  nearly  every  one 
present,  but  especially  to  Madame  E6musat, 
whom  she  did  not  like.  Madame  Eeniusat,  who, 
unfortunately,  had  to  take  part  in  the  opera, 
endured  all  the  slights  with  becoming  modesty; 
but  the  smile  around  her  mouth  grew  more  and 


73 


The  Governor’s  \^^fe 


more  strained,  and  the  glances  from  her  large, 
piercing  eyes  were  almost  cutting. 

While  the  ladies  were  gathered  in  the  Em¬ 
press’  boudoir  to  admire  the  large  diamond  neck¬ 
lace  which  the  Emperor  had  just  sent  her, 
suddenly  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve 
burst  into  a  nervous  fit  of  crying  which  ended 
in  a  faint. 

Although  the  Princess  collapsed  near  Madame 
Junot,  the  latter  did  not  stir  to  aid  her  j  on  the 
contrary,  the  Governor’s  wife,  as  thongh  nothing 
had  happened,  continued  her  conversation  with 
Madame  Ney,  who  sat  across  the  table,  and  who 
did  not  have  time  to  arise  before  the  Empress, 
much  alarmed,  had  rushed  to  Caroline’s  side. 

They  loosened  Caroline’s  dress  to  give  her  air, 
when  from  her  bosom  there  fell  a  loosely  folded 
note.  The  Empress  saw  it,  and,  with  the  for¬ 
bearance  so  natural  and  peculiar  to  her  when  it 
concerned  secrets  of  that  sort,  she  caught  it 
quickly  and  stuck  it  in  her  sister-in-law’s  hands, 
which  she  then  held  in  hers.  She  glanced 
quickly  at  Madame  Junot  to  see  whether  the  lat¬ 
ter  had  noticed  anything,  for  her  Majesty  had 
recognized  the  handwriting  as  Junot’ s. 

The  Governor’s  wife  sat  perfectly  quiet  in  her 


74 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


low  easy-chair,  bending  over  the  diamonds  with 
which  her  hand  mechanically  played. 

When  Caroline  again  gained  consciousness 
she  nervously  crushed  the  note  of  which  the 
Empress,  by  a  slight  pressure  of  the  hand,  re¬ 
minded  her. 

“Itisa  .  .  .  a  letter  from  Murat,”  she  mur¬ 
mured. 

Madame  Junot  turned  her  head  a  little,  and 
peeped  sidewise  at  her  from  under  her  long  eye¬ 
lashes. 

The  performance  of  “The  Barber  of  Seville” 
was  not  a  perfect  success.  Princess  Pauline 
looked  bewitching  enough  in  her  fantastic  peas¬ 
ant  costume,  but  such  of  her  lines  as  she  had  to 
sing  she  sang  so  decidedly  false  that  even  she 
herself  was  conscious  of  the  discord,  and  soon 
lost  her  temper.  Those  who  understood  a  little 
about  acting — and  most  of  them  did — sighed  at 
the  memory  of  how  differently  the  part  of 
Rosina  had  been  played  five  years  before  there 
at  Malmaison,  when  Hortense  Beauharnais  was 
the  acknowledged  star  of  the  occasion.  Of  her 
acting  that  evening,  Madame  Junot  wrote  many 
years  after  this: 


76 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

‘^To  her  fine  acting  she  united  a  charming 
figure  and  an  exquisite  carriage.  Many  years 
have  elapsed  since  those  joyous  evenings,  but  my 
memory  still  Torcibly  recalls  the  graceful  and 
pleasing  image  of  Mademoiselle  Beauharnais, 
with  her  profusion  of  fair  ringlets  beneath  a 
black  velvet  hat,  ornamented  with  long,  pink 
feathers,  and  the  black  dress  so  admirably  fitted 
to  her  small  and  symmetrical  shape!  I  seem  yet 
to  see  and  hear  her,  and  it  is  truly  a  sweet  and 
smiling  illusion.” 

With  such  a  vision  in  her  memory,  it  was  no 
wonder  that  Madame  Junot  derived  little  pleas¬ 
ure  from  Princess  Pauline’s  rendering  of  the 
part,  and  she  looked  forward  with  even  less 
enjoyment  to  the  rest  of  the  program.  In  fact, 
during  the  performance  of  the  comedy  which 
followed  “The  Barber  of  Seville,”  Madame 
Junot  became  positively  angry  that  she  had  been 
made  to  take  part  in  such  nonsense,  and  she 
had  much  difficulty  in  controlling  herself. 

Junot  was  really  the  only  one  in  the  comedy 
who  covered  himself  with  glory.  He  had  always 
been  a  good  amateur  performer,  and  this  time  he 
played  with  a  verve  and  fire  which  lent  a  de¬ 
cided  charm  to  his  part.  He  was  the  hero,  a 
76 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


young  peasant  who  returns  to  his  village  after 
the  battle  of  Jena  and  finds  his  sweetheart, 
Caroline,  greatly  annoyed  by  the  persistent  at¬ 
tentions  of  a  shallow-pated  fop.  But,  thanks 
to  the  good  fairy,  the  Empress,  who  lives  at 
Malmaison,  aU  ends  well,  and  they  are  solemnly 
united  by  the  Mayor  of  their  native  village. 

Junot  gave  quite  as  strong  and  true  an  expres¬ 
sion  of  the  young  soldier’s  patriotic  enthusiasm 
over  the  victories  in  Germany  as  of  his  anxiety, 
his  love,  and,  finally,  of  his  jubilant  happiness 
over  possessing  his  loved  one.  Princess  Caroline 
played  her  part  with  no  more  meaning  than  a 
porcelain  doll  might  have  given  it.  She  had  an 
unfortunate  accent  at  all  times,  and  on  the  stage 
she  lost  her  natural  and  self-possessed  manner, 
becoming  so  overdrawn  and  sentimental  in  her 
acting  as  to  give  the  impression  that  she  was 
producing  a  parody. 

But  when  Charles,  with  half-bent  knee  and 
outstretched  arms,  turned  to  the  bride  whom 
he  had  won,  the  royal  actress  at  last  showed 
some  life  and  naturalness.  Amid  the  rousing 
applause  that  greeted  this  scene  near  the  end  of 
the  play,  a  tremor — almost  a  shock — passed 
through  the  bride;  while  over  her  painted  cheeks. 


77 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

before  so  white,  there  spread  a  warm  blush  down 
to  her  velvety  neck;  her  eyes  beamed  suddenly, 
and,  as  she  lowered  them  with  a  smile,  she  in¬ 
toned,  in  an  unusually  true  and  sweet  voice,  the 
melody  of  ‘  ^  Oh,  ma  tendre  Musette,  ’  ’  the  lovers’ 
last  duette: 

“  In  spite  of  danger  and  snares, 

I  belong  but  to  you,  my  love.” 

After  the  curtain  had  dropped,  and  while  the 
actors  still  stood  on  the  stage  listening  to  the  ap¬ 
plause,  Charles  and  Caroline  stood,  full  of  en¬ 
chantment,  still  gazing  at  each  other.  The 
young  soldier’s  face  beamed  as  though  he  had 
suddenly  had  a  heavenly  vision,  while  M.  de 
Brigode,  who  had  taken  the  part  of  the  fop, 
whispered  to  M.  de  Montbriton: 

^'The  Governor  of  Paris  is  much  too  realistic  ! 
How  well  the  Princess  has  at  last  profited  by 
his  instruction  !  I  wonder  if  they  have  not  re¬ 
hearsed  more  often  than  we  ?  .  . 

Later  there  was  dancing  in  the  gallery,  as  in 
days  of  old,  and  Madame  Junot  sat  by  the  side 
of  the  Queen  of  Naples.  After  the  strain  and 
excitement,  of  which  the  day  had  been  so  full. 


78 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


she  scarcely  tried  to  conceal  how  vexed  and  un¬ 
happy  she  felt. 

She  saw  her  husband  dance  with  Princess 
Caroline  time  after  time,  she  saw  their  eyes  meet 
in  the  gleam  of  the  wax  candles,  and  she  under¬ 
stood  what  all  the  rest  seemed  now,  also,  to 
understand. 

She  felt  herself  more  deeply  and  bitterly  hum¬ 
bled  than  ever  before.  She  thought  of  the  talk 
they  had  had  a  few  weeks  before,  when  she  had 
so  honestly  confessed  to  him  what  she  felt  in  her 
heart.  She  thought  how  she  had  put  herself 
and  her  feelings  as  wife  secondary,  and  how 
earnestly  she  had  spoken  to  him  of  the  danger 
to  which  he  politically  exposed  himself  by  being 
on  intimate  terms  with  the  Emperor’s  enemies. 
Yes,  enemies  !  She  knew  that  Caroline’s  in* 
trigue  meant  nothing  less — and  Napoleon,  with 
his  clear,  penetrating  insight  into  the  heart  of 
things,  would  understand  as  much  as  soon  as  he 
again  set  foot  in  Paris. 

This  evening  she  had  discovered  a  great  deal 
more  than  ever  before.  For  several  months  she 
clearly  understood  that  Murat’s  wife  purposely 
wished  to  win  the  Governor  of  Paris  as  a  polit¬ 
ical  personage.  She  saw  that  Caroline,  to  be 


79 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

sure  of  him  for  her  party  should  it  suddenly 
become  necessary  to  elect  the  Emperor’s  suc¬ 
cessor,  gave  herself,  her  beauty,  her  womanli¬ 
ness  as  the  price  of  his  support.  But  to-night ! 
.  .  .  To-night  she  had  seen,  with  her  womanly 
instinct,  that  Caroline  also  loved  Junot.  She 
saw  that  now — for  to-night  at  least — he  was  her 
master. 

Laurette  had  known  Caroline  Bonaparte  for 
years;  and  when  she  saw  her  smile  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  as  she  rested  on  Junot’ s  arms  during 
the  waltz,  she  knew  she  would  obey  him  in 
everything.  Laurette  also  knew  the  power  which 
a  woman  who  really  loves  has  over  a  man,  and 
she  now  feared  that  she  might  lose  him. 

The  kind  Julia,  the  Queen  of  Naples,  grasped 
her  hand  and  pressed  it  several  times  in  sym¬ 
pathy.  Ah,  she  also  had  had  experience,  and 
understood  perfectly  what  was  happening  ! 

'‘You  look  so  pale,  little  Laurette — come  with 
me  into  the  boudoir.  You — in  your  condition — 
you  have  become  dizzy  with  watching  these 
whirling  dancers — come  !  ” 

The  Queen  put  her  arm  in  Laurette’ s,  and  led 
her  to  the  other  room.  Laurette  heard  them 
call  for  orange-blossom  water,  so  she  swallowed 


80 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


some  of  it  when  they  put  it  to  her  lips.  She 
had  a  certain  unpleasant,  humble  feeling  that 
these  kind  dames  pitied  her,  so  her  pride  roused 
her  to  conquer  her  weakness. 

By  summoning  all  her  strong  will  she  arose 
and  said,  smilingly: 

^‘This  is  really  too  comical !  First,  the  Grand 
Duchess  faints,  and  then  I  must  faint  too,  to 
keep  her  company.  Her  Majesty  is  kept  as 
busy  on  her  birthday  as  a  Sister  of  Charity  !  ” 

At  the  moment  she  arose  to  order  her  car¬ 
riage,  Princess  Caroline  entered  the  room. 

“But  we  cannot  possibly  let  her  go  alone, 
the  sweet  Laurette,”  she  said,  as  she  turned  to 
her  sister-in-law.  “Wait  a  moment  until  I  go 
home,  then  you  can  ride  in  my  carriage;  it  is 
easy  and  roomy.  Is  it  not  better,  Junot,”  she 
turned  to  the  General,  who  was  just  entering 
the  room,  “that  you  both  ride  home  with 
me?  ” 

Junot  was  a  little  in  doubt  at  this,  and  bent 
inquiringly  over  his  wife. 

“Your  Imperial  Highness  is  too  kind,  but .  .  . 
well,  what  do  you  say,  Laurette  ?  ” 

The  Governor’s  wife  looked  up  at  him.  Over 
her  pale  face  there  glided,  like  a  reflection,  that 


81 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

ironical  smile  of  hers  that  served  her  so  well  as 
a  defensive  mask. 

‘ '  I  say,  with  you,  ‘  Her  Highness  is  much  too 
kind’;  let  us  say  ^Thanks.’  ”  Then,  after  a  mo¬ 
ment’s  pause,  in  which  she  got  herself  well  in 
hand,  in  spite  of  many  objections,  she  persisted 
in  her  wish  to  go.  “This  is  only  a  little  dizzi¬ 
ness — it  is  over  now,”  she  said,  as  she  looked 
around.  ‘  ‘  I  suppose  you  all  think  that  the  lit¬ 
tle  one  will  arrive  in  the  world  on  the  road 
between  Eueil  and  Paris.  In  that  case,  I  hope 
that  your  Majesty  will  once  more  honor  us  by 
being  godmother.” 

The  ladies  laughed  aloud,  and  began  to  whis¬ 
per  and  tell  birth  stories,  of  which  they  knew 
some  peculiar  ones,  that  they  had  heard  from 
Madame  Frangeau  and  Doctor  Baudelocque. 
Out  in  the  gallery  the  dancing  was  continued. 

At  last  Madame  Junot  was  seated  in  the  Grand 
Duchess’  elaborate  equipage.  She  sat  on  the 
front  seat,  at  the  side  of  Caroline  and  opposite 
her  lady  in  attendance.  Mademoiselle — or,  rather, 
Madame  la  Grange,  as  she  had  a  right  to  be 
called,  on  account  of  her  age  and  special  circum¬ 
stances.  Opposite  the  Princess  sat  Junot.  Though 
the  night  was  quite  cool,  her  Highness  constantly 


82 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


complained  of  the  heat.  She  pulled  the  shawl 
from  her  bare  shoulders  in  a  playful,  obstinate 
fashion,  so  that  Junot  was  obliged,  one  time  after 
another,  to  lay  it  around  her  with  tender  author¬ 
ity,  while  she  sat  and  fanned  herself. 

Suddenly  it  looked  as  though  Caroline’s  indis¬ 
position  of  the  morning  would  repeat  itself.  She 
interrupted  the  conversation  with  a  little  scream 
and  fell  back  with  her  hand  on  her  heart.  Junot 
quickly  opened  the  carriage  door.  In  the  light 
of  the  carriage  lanterns  he  saw  the  Princess’  pale 
face  resting  against  the  silk  cushion.  Fright¬ 
ened,  he  grasped  her  hands. 

“Help  me  out,”  she  whispered,  with  closed 
eyes.  ‘  ‘  Let  me  walk ! .  .  .  A  little  fresh  air ! . . .  ” 

Junot  almost  lifted  her  in  his  arms  from  the 
carriage.  His  wife,  who  had  hitherto  looked  as 
though  she  slept,  turned  her  head  and  looked 
after  them.  Madame  la  Grange  made  an  at¬ 
tempt  to  descend,  but  the  Governor’s  wife  held 
her  back. 

“I  beg  of  you,  madame,  to  remain!  Some 
one  must  remain  to  protect  the  royal  dignity.” 

“You  are  right;  but  the  poor  Duchess  .  .  . 
such  a  nervous  attack !  ’  ’  And  Madame  la  Grange 
sat  down  again — utterly  at  a  loss. 


83 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


After  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so  Junot  re¬ 
turned,  the  Pi'iucess  leaning  heavily  upon  his 
arm.  She  was  still  pale,  but  her  eyes  beamed  in 
the  light  of  the  torches  which  the  lackies  held 
outside  the  carriage  door.  When  she  took  her 
seat  again  at  the  side  of  Madame  Junot,  she 
slii)ped  her  arm  caressingly  around  her  waist. 

Were  you  frightened,  little  Laurette?  .  . 

Madame  Junot  smiled;  she  was  even  paler  than 
the  Princess,  She  shook  her  head,  and  said,  in 
a  respectful  tone: 

‘^Of  course,  I  am  very  sorry  that  your  High¬ 
ness  should  be  taken  so  unawares  by  this — at¬ 
tack;  but  as  my  husband  was  with  you,  I  knew 
that  nothing  alarming  could  happen — especially 
on  an  evening  promenade  along  a  country  road.’’ 

It  was  three  o’clock  when  the  carriage  at  last 
stopped  at  the  Elys4e.  The  Governor  of  Paris 
offered  his  hand  to  the  Princess  to  escort  her  to 
her  apartment.  His  coachman  was  ordered  to 
wait.  But  Madame  Junot  was  driven  home  in 
the  Grand  Duchess’  carriage — alone. 


84 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


VII 


La  seule  difference  entre  eux  et  tnoi, 
c’est  qu’ils  sent  des  descendants,  et  que 
moi  —  je  suis  un  ancetre. 

Mot  du  General  Junot 
(rappo»'te  par  Mme.  de  Remusat). 


HEN  Madame  Junot  established  her  elab¬ 
orate  household  for  the  winter  in  the 
palace  iu  the  Champs- ^^ly sees,  she  nat¬ 
urally  had  had  many  calls  to  pay  and  to  receive. 
Some  of  her  experiences  away  from  home  have 
been  related,  and  in  the  meantime  everything 
in  her  own  home  went  on  as  usual.  Every  morn¬ 
ing  after  breakfast  she  received  her  daily  visitors 
— Count  Louis  de  Narboune,  Madame  de  Zayon- 
scheck,  and  a  few  others  of  her  most  intimate 
friends.  Every  evening,  as  the  Governor’s  wife, 
she  kept  open  house,  where  there  would  be 
found,  besides  friends  and  acquaintances,  nearly 
all  of  the  foreigners  of  note  who  were  spending 
the  winter  in  Paris — German  noblemen,  Dutch 
magnates,  Polish  gentlemen,  Italians,  Spaniards, 

85 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

and  always  tlie  Portuguese,  who  still  called 
Madame  Juiiot  their  Ambassadress.”  Be¬ 
sides,  there  was  one  special  day  in  the  week  for 
Juuot’s  card  club — the  same  club  that  used  to 
gather  at  Talleyrand’s — and  another  for  the  more 
official  reception,  where  the  officers  of  the  gar¬ 
rison  and  the  dignitaries  of  the  city,  with  their 
ladies,  paid  their  respects  to  the  Governor’s  wife 
in  a  never-ending  procession. 

Hospitality  had  become  so  habitual  to  Madame 
Junot  that  its  demands  did  not  bother  her  at  all — 
not  even  under  present  circumstances.  She  was 
by  nature  a  grande  dame,  and,  by  force  of  cir¬ 
cumstances,  she  was  pushed  to  the  front  of  this 
noisy,  ever-changing  cosmopolitan  society  which 
had  now  begun  in  Paris.  Under  the  kings,  Paris 
had  been  but  a  provincial  town  in  comparison 
with  what  it  had  developed  into  under  the  Con¬ 
sulate  and  the  Empire.  Paris  was  then  the  cen¬ 
ter  of  France,  and  France  was  the  center  of  the 
world. 

The  Emperor  wished  everybody  to  be  gay, 
although  he  and  his  staff  were  thankful  for  a 
bivouac  in  Osterode,  or  for  a  wooden  house  in 
Finkenstein.  Whatever  happened,  he  expected 
Paris  to  “astonish  Europe,”  and  Madame  Ju- 


86 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


not  knew  that  his  Majesty  counted  upon  her  to 
carry  out  the  social  functions  on  a  scale  ‘  ‘  worthy 
or  his  good  city,  Paris.” 

As  “Turkomania  ”  was  now  the  only  redeem¬ 
ing  thing  in  the  current  fashion,  thanks  to  the 
Emperor’s  alliance  with  Sultan  Selim,  she  did  not 
leave  her  divan  on  the  grand  reception  nights, 
but  arranged  it  as  an  Oriental  ottoman  with 
many-colored  silk  cushions  and  a  couvre-pied  of 
gold  lace.  There  she  reclined  evening  after 
evening,  her  open  silk  jacket  thrown  over  a 
loose  India  linen  blouse.  On  her  head  was  the 
inevitable  turban,  around  which  were  twisted 
ropes  of  pearls — a  real  Queen  of  the  Harem,  but 
d  la  frangaise. 

It  was  an  evening  in  June;  it  was  stifling  hot 
in  the  large  salon,  with  its  colossal  chandeliers, 
lighted  candelabras,  and  wall-lamps.  The  win¬ 
dows  opened  on  the  Champs-^^lysees;  the  mild 
evening  air  streamed  in,  ladeued  with  the  per- 
fiune  of  the  linden-tree  that  bloomed  in  the 
court. 

Several  of  the  guests  had  already  withdrawn 
on  account  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour;  but  Car¬ 
dinal  Maury  and  a  few  ladies — among  whom  was 
Madame  Launes — sat  around  the  divan.  They 


87 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

were  still  playing  cards  at  a  couple  of  tables 
in  the  adjoining  salon.  The  Grand  Duchess  of 
Berg  and  Oleve  was  just  finishing  a  game  of 
whist  with  the  Governor  of  Paris,  Duke  Au- 
busson  de  la  Feullade,  and  Count  de  Narbonne. 
Through  the  door  could  be  seen  the  Princess’ 
magnificent  bust  and  the  bowed  heads  of  the 
gentlemen  as  they  deftly  handled  their  cards; 
their  large,  three-cornered  hats  were  closely  held 
under  their  arms.  Once  more  the  door  was 
opened  widely  as  the  lackey  announced,  with 
loud  voice: 

^^His  Highness  the  Prince  Archchancellor  !” 

Cambac6res  stepped  in.  He  looked  exactly 
as  he  did  when  he  voted  for  the  King’s  death, 
and  as  he  did  at  Malmaison,  when  he  dined 
outdoors  with  the  First  Consul,  midst  a  deal 
of  joking  and  good  humor.  His  long  face  was 
just  as  serious  as  ever,  and  his  long  nose  just  as 
solemnly  melancholy ;  his  long  chin  buried 
itself  with  the  same  dignity  in  the  lace  cravat; 
he  still  powdered  his  hair  and  wore  the  silk 
waistcoat  with  embroidery,  common  at  the  time 
of  the  Directorate.  He  looked  exactly  like  an 
official  from  one  of  the  provinces. 

He  walked  solemnly  up  to  Madame  Junot, 


88 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


who  tried  to  rise,  and  said,  in  his  slow,  drawling 
voice: 

“  I  beg  you,  madame,  remain  where  you  are.” 

He  bent  down  and  kissed  her  on  both  cheeks. 
Then  the  other  guests  courteously  made  room  for 
his  Highness,  so  that  he  might  sit  in  a  low  chair 
at  the  side  of  the  divan.  He  graciously  accepted 
the  pinch  of  snuff  which  Cardinal  Maury  offered 
him,  and  as  he  slowly  lifted  his  fingers  to  his  nose 
with  a  certain  grace,  he  said,  in  his  same  slow 
way: 

I  have  great  news  for  you,  madame.” 

“Ah,  your  Highness,  let  me  hear  it  right 
away  !  His  Eminence  has  not  been  able  to  think 
of  anything  new  for  the  last  half  hour.” 

“  It  has  pleased  his  Majesty  to  create  a  new 
dignity  and  rank  for  his  faithful  warriors.  He 
has  decided  to  confer  the  order  of  Duke.” 

“On  whom  ?  ’  ’  exclaimed  all  the  ladies  at  once. 

Cambaceres  sat  with  his  hands  on  his  stomach 
and  twirled  his  thumbs. 

“Yes;  now  guess!”  said  he,  phlegmatically. 

“Marshal  Lannes,  of  course  !”  said  Madame 
Junot,  as  she  congratulatingly  stretched  her  hand 
out  to  Madame  Lannes. 

“No;  that  would  be  much  too  easy — a  child 


89 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

could  guess  that !  No;  his  Majesty  has  made  it 
more  complicated.  ’  ’ 

‘  ‘  But  who  in  the  world  .  .  .  Mass4na  ?  .  .  . 
Duroc?  .  • 

The  Archchancellor  shook  his  head.  “Will 
no  one  ever  guess  it?  ”  He  looked  around  tri¬ 
umphantly.  “Lefebvre!  He  is  now  the  Duke 
of  Danzig.” 

Every  one  seemed  surprised,  and  then  they  all 
burst  out  laughing.  Even  Cambac4res  laughed, 
and  the  card-players,  stopping  their  game  and 
coming  to  the  door,  joined  in  the  merriment. 

At  that  moment  the  double  doors  were  opened 
again. 

“Madame,  the  Marshalin  Lefebvre!”  an¬ 
nounced  the  lackey. 

The  lady  measured  the  servant  severely  with 
her  eyes  as  she  passed  him,  her  fat,  red  face 
rounder  than  usual,  and  her  elbows  well  out,  as 
though  her  arms  were  wings  with  which  she  were 
going  to  fly. 

This  time  Madame  Junot  arose  and  took  a 
few  steps  to  meet  the  Marshalin,  saying,  with  a 
smile: 

“May  I  be  permitted  to  greet  the  Duchess  of 
Danzig  ?  ’  ’ 


90 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


The  new  Duchess  blinked  at  the  Governor’s 
wife  without  answering;  then,  turning  trium¬ 
phantly  to  the  forgetful  lackey,  who  still  held 
the  door  open,  she  glared  at  him: 

‘'There  now,  my  boy,  don’t  you  feel  ashamed 
of  yourself  I  ” 

At  this  sally — scarcely  unexpected,  for  it  was 
always  the  unexpected  that  happened  whenever 
Madame  Sans-Gene  appeared  in  public — at  this 
sally  a  loud  ijeal  of  laughter  from  the  lips  of  all 
rang  through  the  salon.  Madame  Junot  laughed 
until  the  tears  ran  from  her  eyes,  and,  without 
asking  the  new  Duchess  to  be  seated,  she  threw 
herself  on  the  divan,  convulsed  with  laughter. 

When  the  laughter  seemed  about  to  stop,  and 
all  were  busy  drying  their  eyes,  a  suppressed 
giggle  or  a  mere  glance  was  enough  to  cause  it 
to  break  out  again.  They  laughed  that  night  at 
the  Governor’s  so  that  the  echoes  were  heard  all 
over  the  Champs- Ely  sees.  Madame  Lefebvre 
was  flattered  by  this  gaiety,  which  she  never 
failed  to  provoke;  for  she  settled  down  in  an 
easy-chair  which  Junot  had  pushed  toward  her, 
and  laughed  just  as  heartily  as  the  rest. 

Siiddenly  a  scream  of  pain  cut  through  the 
laughter.  Madame  Junot  tried  to  rise,  tottered, 


91 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

and  would  have  fallen  had  not  her  husband 
caught  her. 

That  was  the  end  of  the  laughter,  and  the 
ladies  looked  anxiously  at  each  other. 

“  Certainly — that  was  it !  ” 

‘  ^  Send  for  Marchais  and  Baudelocque  at  once,  ’  ’ 
commanded  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg,  as  she 
vigorously  pulled  the  bell-rope  with  her  own 
hand. 

“1  assure  your  Imperial  Highness,”  mur¬ 
mured  Madame  Junot,  with  a  gesture,  “it  is 
over  now.  ...” 

Count  Louis  de  Narbonne  quickly  filled  a  glass 
with  deep  red  Burgundy  from  one  of  the  decan¬ 
ters  standing  on  a  table. 

“Drink,  Madame  la  gouvernante !  If  you 
never  drank  wine  before,  you  must  bid  Junot’ s 
oldest  son  welcome  to  his  home  !  ” 

Madame  Junot  smilingly  took  the  glass,  which 
glittered  like  a  ruby  in  the  light,  and,  lifting  it 
to  her  lips,  gave  it  to  her  husband,  who  drained 
it  in  one  draught.  When  she  lifted  her  eyes 
again  to  his,  she  found  them  fastened  upon  her 
with  fond  emotion. 

“Hurry  up,  Madame  Junot  !”  said  Madame 
Lefebvre,  quietly,  in  her  drawling  tone,  and  in  a 


92 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


dialect  that  always  called  forth  a  smile.  ‘  ‘  Hurry 
up,  so  that  Cardinal  Maury  can  come  right  in 
and  baptize  the  boy — there  are  enough  of  us 
here  for  witnesses.” 

Good  humor  reigned  again,  and  laughter  went 
the  rounds  of  the  little  company.  Junot  beamed 
with  delight,  but  he  scarcely  took  his  eyes  from 
his  wife.  Suddenly  she  clutched  his  arm  con¬ 
vulsively. 

‘‘It’s  an  impatient  youngster,  Junot,”  ejacu¬ 
lated  Madame  Lefebvre.  “He  is  going  to  look 
like  his  father.” 

“Ah,  but  his  mother  is  not  known  for  her 
patience  !  ”  exclaimed  Cardinal  Maury. 

Junot,  almost  carrying  his  wife  to  her  room, 
quite  forgot,  in  his  great  anxiety,  even  to  offer  to 
escort  the  Grand  Duchess  to  her  carriage.  Caro¬ 
line,  without  seeming  hurt,  took  the  hand  of 
Count  de  Harbonne,  and  allowed  him  to  lead 
her  forth,  followed  by  his  Highness  the  Arch¬ 
chancellor  and  Madame  Lannes.  But  the  rest 
of  the  company,  not  being  so  inclined,  returned 
to  cheer  the  anxious  Junot,  who  was  anything 
but  heroic  while  witnessing  the  sufferings  of  his 
wife. 

Madame  Lefebvre,  a  clever  and  experienced 


93 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

woman,  did  all  she  could  to  reassure  him,  and 
said: 

‘‘Now,  look  here,  General!  Be  patient! 
Don’t  hang  over  her  in  that  manner !  You 
quite  unnerve  the  poor  child,  and  make  her  un¬ 
equal  to  her  task.  ’  ’  And  with  her  strong  red 
hands  the  Duchess  of  Danzig  took  him  by  the 
shoulders  and  pushed  him  out  of  the  room. 
“  Now  look  after  him,”  she  called  to  the  adju¬ 
tants  and  to  Count  de  Narbonne,  who  had  just 
come  in,  “and  don’t  mix  in  our  affairs;  for  the 
work  that  has  to  be  done  here  requires  none  but 
women !  ” 

The  newly  made  Duchess,  removing  her  man¬ 
tle,  said  to  Marchais,  as  he  entered  the  room  : 

‘  ‘  Monsieur  Marchais,  what  can  you  do  for  her  ? 
Poor  little  dear !  You  understand — the  first 
boy — is  a  bad  case.” 

“Let  her  get  up  and  kiss  all  four  bedposts 
while  she  thinks  of  the  Holy  Virgin;  that  scat¬ 
ters  the  pains,”  suggested  one  of  the  ladies. 

“Goodness,  how  could  you  think  of  letting 
her  get  up  !  That  would  mean  sure  death  for  the 
child!”  exclaimed  another.  “No,  she  shall 
have  a  rosary  under  her  head;  that  is  the  only 
thing  which  helps.” 


94 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


The  surgeon,  Marchais,  a  little  fellow  with  a 
large  white  apron  over  his  knee-breeches,  a  huge 
diamond  pin  on  his  breast,  and  large,  round 
glasses  that  kept  slipping  to  the  point  of  his 
nose,  called,  with  loud  voice: 

“My  ladies  !  my  ladies  !  You  must  either  go 
or  keep  still ;  and  as  I  consider  the  latter  an 
absolute  impossibility,  then  ...”  He  opened 
the  door  for  them  to  retire. 

“Yes,  let  us  go!”  said  Madame  Lefebvre, 
appreciating  the  situation,  and  snatching  up  her 
court  mantle. 

“I  believe  it  will  be  twins,  Junot,”  she  said, 
knowingly,  as  she  bade  him  good- night  in  the 
salon.  “Now,  brace  up!  Think  how  pleased 
the  Emperor  will  be.” 

The  bedroom,  though  lighted  by  many  can¬ 
dles,  was  dull  and  dark  in  its  massiveness.  On 
the  high,  broad  bed  Madame  Junot  lay  like  one 
dead — pale  and  immovable.  To  Junot,  now  en¬ 
tering  the  room  and  catching  a  glimpse  of  her 
there — so  still,  so  white  in  the  gleam  of  the  can¬ 
dles — the  sight  was  unbearable.  A  bitter  cry  of 
anguish  rose  to  his  lips  as  he  fell  on  his  knees 
beside  the  bed  where  lay  the  delicate  form  he 
loved  so  well. 


95 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  met  his  for  only  an 
instant. 

“If  the  pains  would  only  come  in  earnest,  I 
assure  you  that  within  half  an  hour  you  would 
hold  the  child  in  your  arms,”  said  the  surgeon, 
taking  the  Governor  by  the  arm  and  leading  him 
from  the  room. 

Through  the  corridors  and  up  and  down  the 
stairs  the  servants  were  hurrying,  intent  on 
their  errands;  the  lights  burned  brightly  every¬ 
where  in  the  palace;  and  in  the  dressing-room 
Madame  Lallemand  was  busy  gathering  together 
an  infant’s  outfit,  while  messengers  were  search¬ 
ing  Paris  for  Dr.  Baudelocque. 

Suddenly  there  rang  in  the  ears  of  all  a  long- 
drawn,  agonizing  scream — the  peculiar  scream 
of  pain  and  anguish  which  escapes  from  a  wo¬ 
man’s  lips  only  at  the  moment  of  birth  .  .  . 
Then,  at  last,  came  the  first  faint  cry  of  the  young 
heir,  and  the  adjutant  who  was  stationed  at 
the  door  announced: 

“  Monseigneur  has  a  son  !  ” 

When  Junot,  pale  and  worn,  was  permitted 
to  enter  the  sacred  presence,  his  eyes  first  sought 
his  wife  who  lay  exhausted,  like  a  frightened 


96 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


dove,  but  iu  whose  face  shone  all  the  glory  of 
motherhood,  with  a  beauty  that  drew  from  him 
the  deepest  reverence  of  his  heart. 

Their  eyes  met  over  the  little  head,  so  wrinkled 
and  pink,  that  nestled  on  her  bosom,  and  they 
both  knew  and  understood  at  that  moment  that 
in  spite  of  all  missteps,  misunderstandings,  and 
troubles,  they  loved  each  other  with  the  love 
that  never  dies;  that  for  them  there  were  no 
other  ties  in  all  the  world  in  comparison  to  the 
strong,  fresh,  youthful  love  that  there  united 
them.  She  smiled  at  him,  and  there  was  a 
secret,  jubilant  victory  in  her  smile  that  he 
alone  understood. 

Cardinal  Maury  and  Count  Louis  de  Narbonne, 
who  had  been  patiently  waiting  in  the  salon, 
now  discreetly  presented  themselves  at  the  door, 
and,  at  a  faint  nod  from  the  young  mother,  they 
entered  the  room.  At  the  same  time  Junot, 
quite  beside  himself  with  joy,  said: 

‘‘May  I  introduce  to  you  the  Emperor’s  god¬ 
son,  my  little  Napoleon? ”  lifting  the  child  high 
up  in  the  air.  “And  you,  my  son,  may  I  intro¬ 
duce  to  you  the  holy  Gallican  Church,  and  in 
this  other  gentleman  the  legitimate  aristocracy 
of  your  country  %  Ha  ! — ‘legitimate  ’ — he  is  as 


97 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


legitimate  as  any  one — any  one  of  the  second 
generation  after  the  Eevolution  or  the  Empire. 
Think  of  it,  my  dear  Narbonne,  as  aristocrats 
the  only  difference  between  you  and  me  is  this: 
you  are  the  scion,  but  I — I  am  the  sire  !  ” 


98 


VIII 


C’est  aujourd’hui  I’anniversaire  de 
Marengo  I  C’est  uu  jour  heureux  pour 
nous. 

NapolSon  (en  route  pour  Friedland). 

Car  je  me  regarde  comme  Thomme 
le  plus  audacieux  en  guerre  qui  peutetre 
ait  jamais  exists. 

NAPOLfioN  (a  Ste  Heiane). 


FTEK  the  battle  at  Eylau,  iu  th  3  autumn 
of  1806,  Napoleon  spent  the  winter  in 
recruiting  and  reorganizing  his  army, 
and  he  was  now  waiting  only  for  good  weather 
to  begin  the  campaign  again. 

Junot  now  studied  more  eagerly  than  ever  the 
large  wall-maps  that  illustrated  the  seat  of  war 
for  him  on  the  walls  of  his  room.  With  whole 
regiments  of  different  colored  pins  he  marked 
the  positions  of  the  opposing  armies.  Over 
these  he  pored  for  hours,  and  he  never  tired  of 
explaining  to  his  wife  the  many  combinations 
and  movements  that  were  made. 

With  the  certainty  of  an  experienced  and  in¬ 
telligent  soldier,  he  warmly  praised  Napoleon’s 
preeminent  skill.  For  instance,  the  Emperor 
had  just  chosen  his  winter  position  at  Passarge, 


09 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

from  which  he  was  easily  able  to  protect  that 
part  of  his  forces  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Danzig, 
as  well  as  to  ward  off  from  himself  those  who 
were  waiting  for  a  good  opportunity  to  fall  upon 
him.  At  the  same  time,  he  was  so  placed  that 
he  could  get  the  benefit  of  the  great  resources  of 
conquered  Germany. 

Junot  wished  his  wife  to  understand  thor¬ 
oughly  what  a  stroke  of  genius  this  move  was — 
to  maintain  an  army  of  two  hundred  thousand 
men  unmolested  through  the  winter  in  the  ene¬ 
my’ s  country. 

‘  ‘  He  has  taught  even  his  enemies  to  respect 
him!”  he  exclaimed.  “On  the  banks  of  the 
Weichsel  his  soldiers  are  bivouacing  as  securely 
as  though  they  lay  along  the  Seine  or  Ehone, 
and  that  with  four  powers  declared  against  them  I 
From  his  barracks  among  the  snowbanks  of 
Poland  the  Emperor  is  ruling  his  widespread 
kingdom  quite  as  efficiently  as  he  could  from  his 
executive  chamber  in  the  Tuileries.  You  see, 
Laurette,  that  which  is  now  going  on  in  Poland 
is  exceptional  in  the  world’s  history.  .  .  .” 
And  with  deep  chagrin  that  he  could  not  be 
with  Napoleon,  he  pushed  his  charts  away. 

This  feeling  deepened  with  the  advance  of 
lOU 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


spring;  and  after  the  fall  of  Danzig,  toward  the 
end  of  May,  it  was  plain  to  the  Governor  of 
Paris — as,  in  fact,  to  all  who  were  versed  in  mil¬ 
itary  matters — that  the  decisive  moment  of  the 
war  was  near  at  hand. 

When  Madame  Junot  awoke  early  one  morn¬ 
ing  in  June,  and  saw  the  sun  shining  from  a 
clear,  blue  sky,  she  longed  for  the  peace  and 
quiet  of  the  country,  for  the  woods  of  Eaincy, 
and  for  the  roses  that  she  knew  were  blooming  on 
the  terrace  at  Eaincy.  At  first,  however,  it  was 
her  intention  to  take  merely  a  short  morning 
drive,  for  the  fine  mist  that  always  foretold  a 
warm  day  was  slowly  rising  over  Paris,  still 
drowsy  in  the  early  morning  light.  But  the 
thought  of  Eaincy  bewitched  her,  and  its  magic 
drew  her  on.  So,  ordering  her  carriage,  she 
was  away. 

It  was  real  summer  now.  The  fresh  morning 
air  was  balm  to  her  weary  senses,  and  the 
straight  old  trees  welcomed  her  to  Eaincy  with 
their  branches  spread  protectingly  over  her. 
The  smooth  lawn  stretched  temptingly  away 
under  the  trees,  until  it  lost  itself  like  a  cloud  in 
the  blue  line  of  the  forest. 


101 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

For  the  first  time  in  many  days  Madame  Junot 
felt  rested — indifferent  to  everything  around 
her.  She  felt,  too,  the  luxury  of  being  alone — 
the  pleasui’es  of  solitude  without  one  touch  of 
loneliness.  For  once  she  was  glad  to  be  free 
from  the  company  with  which  she  was  wont  to 
surround  herself,  and  happy  in  idly  basking 
there  all  day  in  the  sun  and  shade  of  Eaincy. 
Her  book  fell  from  her  lap  and  lay  unnoticed  in 
the  grass,  although  it  was  Madame  de  Stael’s 
new  romance,  ^‘Oorinne.’’ 

At  last  her  attention  was  roused  by  the  sound 
of  horses’  hoofs,  and,  rising  slightly,  she  listened, 
and  then  she  heard  the  clink  of  spurs  on  the 
stone  stairs  that  led  to  the  terrace.  When  she 
had  taken  a  few  steps  in  that  direction,  she  met 
her  husband  in  his  General’s  uniform,  with  the 
hussar  dolman  over  his  shoulders,  coming 
quickly  toward  her  down  the  broad  stairs.  He 
frantically  waved  the  paper  he  held  in  his  hand. 

“You  are  a  pretty  runaway!  And  to-day 
you  have  made  me  ride  in  a  flying  gallop  from 
Paris  to  Eaincy,  only  because  I  was  afraid  that 
some  one  might  get  ahead  of  me  and  tell  you  the 
great  news.  Guess  what  it  is  !  ” 

“It  is  easy  enough  to  guess,”  she  answered, 


102 


The  Governor's  Wife 


happily,  and  with  great  assurance.  ‘^The  Em¬ 
peror,  of  course,  has  won  another  victory.  ’  ’ 

“Certainly  !  ”  he  said,  ironically.  “You  are 
so  spoiled,  you  Parisian  ladies,  who  sleep  in  silk 
beds  and  take  the  victories  of  the  army  along 
with  your  morning  chocolate  as  a  personal  trib¬ 
ute  to  your  superiority.  Not  one  of  you,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  ever  given  a  moment’s  thought 
to  the  effort,  money,  and  blood  that  are  expended 
upon  the  single  word,  ^Victory.’  You  don’t 
realize  what  it  costs  !  ”  And  he  went  on,  in  his 
impetuous,  warm-hearted  way,  loyally  ui^hold- 
ing  another’s  fame,  and  winning  from  his  w'ife 
the  warmest  love  and  admiration,  not  for  the 
Emperor,  but  for  himself. 

She  laughed  and  leaned  lightly  with  both 
hands  against  his  breast. 

“  But  can’t  you  see  I  am  dying  with  impa¬ 
tience  to  hear  the  news  !  Why  blame  me  for 
having  such  confidence  in  the  army  and  such 
faith  in  the  Emperor  ?  We  have  been  taught  to 
expect  everything  from  them,  and  I  am  sure 
they  have  done  something  splendid  this  time.” 

“You  are  right;  they  won  a  splendid  victory 
at  Friedland,  on  the  14th  of  June.” 

Laurette  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck.  ^  ‘  The 

103 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

14th  of  June,  you  say  ?  That  must  be  Napoleon’s 
lucky  day !  Do  you  remember  Marengo,  seven 
years  ago?” 

“I,  too,  thought  of  that  immediately.”  And 
his  expressive  face  grew  dark  and  stern.  “That 
was  another  field  where  I  was  not  permitted 
to  be.” 

“Ah,  my  dear”  (she  looked  earnestly  into 
his  eyes),  “why  do  you  always  embitter  every 
message  of  victory  with  this  complaint?  You 
know  that  the  Emperor  thinks  you  serve  him 
better  here.  He  has  chosen  you  among  them  all 
to  watch  over  the  apple  of  his  eye,  his  Paris. 
Do  you  think  that  he  would  have  entrusted  this 
to  Bernadotte,  for  instance  ?  ’  ’ 

Junot  laughed.  “By  the  way,  you  should 
accustom  yourself  to  saying  the  Prince  of  Ponto- 
Carvo.  But  I  feel  I  am  not  old  enough  to  sit 
at  home  with  ^  responsibilities  ’  while  the  others 
are  fighting  for  honor;  they  are  now  all  men¬ 
tioned  in  the  Emperor’s  bulletins.  But  I — I 
shall  be  forgotten  by  the  army  !  And  the  staff 
with  the  golden  eagle  !  Laurette,  do  you  believe 
that  can  be  won  on  the  streets  of  Paris?” 

“One  can  be  just  as  happy  and  just  as  great 
without  being  a  Marshal.” 


104 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


He  turned  impatiently  and  let  her  arms  drop. 

“No,  I  cannot,”  he  said,  “I  cannot.” 

Laurette  sighed  and  thoughtfully  resumed  her 
seat,  vaguely  watching  a  gay  butterfly  as  it 
danced  in  the  sunlight,  while  he  walked  up  and 
down  the  terrace.  Then,  at  length,  stopping  in 
front  of  her,  he  bent  down  over  her,  saying: 

“What  are  you  thinking  of?” 

Without  raising  her  eyes  to  his,  she  answered, 
dreamily: 

“I  am  wondering  if  the  Emperor  has  really 
done  right  in  .  .  .” 

“What?  .  .  .” 

“Oh,  nothing!  It  was  an  idle  thought  that 
came  into  my  head.  Do  you  think  that  I  would 
criticize  the  Emperor  ?  ’  ’ 

“Yes,  he  knows  that  you  would,  and  without 
a  bit  of  hesitation.” 

Beyond  the  Niemen,  at  Tilsit,  the  last  bulwark 
of  holy  Eussia,  the  young  Czar  Alexander  was 
the  guest  of  the  conqueror.  Just  as  the  proud 
Francis  II.  had  come  to  Napoleon’s  bivouac  in 
Urschitz,  so  now  the  young  Czar  and  the  King 
of  Prussia  sought  him  at  Tilsit  to  beg  for  peace. 

On  the  other  hand,  Napoleon  stood  there,  in- 

106 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

toxicated  by  his  success,  with  the  whole  world 
crawling  at  his  feet,  and  with  Europe  appar¬ 
ently  ripe  for  the  Western  empire — that  dream 
of  his  which  he  hoped  at  last  to  realize;  that 
daring  fancy  of  his  mind  which  he  would  now 
write  large  on  the  page  of  authentic  history. 

There,  at  the  gates  of  the  East,  stood  Napo¬ 
leon,  in  the  robe  of  Charlemagne,  and  with  a 
scepter  that  guided  the  fate  of  the  people  of  the 
world.  At  his  nod  Europe  bent  the  knee  and 
wreathed  his  brow  with  the  laurels  of  Ciesar, 
proudly  conscious  that  Fate  had  honored  them 
as  a  people  by  permitting  them  to  honor  her 
dearest  child. 

There,  at  the  gate  of  the  East,  stood  an  army 
supporting  Napoleon  with  a  courage  and  a  dar¬ 
ing  equal  to  his  own,  its  strength  and  devotion 
unparalleled  since  the  days  of  Mohammed.  They 
had  learned  a  new  religion — the  religion  of 
honor,  patriotism,  and  personal  ambition.  The 
enthusiasm  for  the  new  faith  went  to  the  heads 
of  the  converts  like  new  wine,  and  they  were 
already  intoxicated  by  their  own  fame  and  too 
keen  a  sense  of  their  own  power. 

In  the  Eevolution  the  French  had  fought  for 
liberty  and  equality;  but  they  had  tired  of  both 
106 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


as  soon  as  they  had  won  them,  for  they  did  not 
know  how  to  use  them.  In  place  of  liberty, 
Napoleon  set  up  honor  and  power  as  the  rewards 
for  successful  effort.  From  the  first  he  used  suc¬ 
cessfully  these  two  spurs  to  stimulate  his  army 
and  then  his  country  to  deeds  of  valor.  Eleven 
years  before,  from  the  snow-clad  peaks  of  the 
Apennines,  he  pointed  out  for  his  hungry  sol¬ 
diers  the  rich  cities  of  Lombardy,  its  meadows 
and  billowy  fields  of  ripening  grain,  and  the  ter¬ 
raced  vineyards  that  led,  as  it  were,  by  steps  to 
the  heights  of  fame,  with  grapes  and  wine  for 
the  bravest. 

Now  he  showed  them  the  golden  steps  in  the 
ladder  of  rank  and  position:  the  title  of  Duke, 
the  Marshal’s  staff,  the  King’s  crown,  the  great 
eagle  of  the  Legion  of  Honor;  and  in  the  souls  of 
these  thousands  of  men  he  awoke  an  all-consum¬ 
ing  ambition  which,  guided  by  his  hand,  and 
sensitive  to  every  pressure,  should  make  his  own 
success.  He  was  not  afraid  to  awaken  the  egot¬ 
ism  of  his  men  and  their  envy  of  each  other,  for 
he  felt  himself  strong  enough  to  control  them, 
to  show  them  their  goal,  and  to  limit  and  use 
their  power  to  further  his  own  plans.  He  tried 
his  power,  he  tempted  his  fortune,  he  stretched 


107 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

the  bow  to  the  utmost  —  and,  see!  it  did  not 
break ! 

In  Paris  they  scarcely  spoke  of  anything  be¬ 
side  the  Emperor’s  friendship  for  young  Alex¬ 
ander;  about  the  newly  won  victory  over  the 
Eussian  army  at  Friedland;  about  the  King  of 
Prussia,  whose  whole  kingdom  Napoleon  could 
have  taken,  but  of  which  he  graciously  allowed 
him  half ;  about  the  new  crown  with  which  the 
Emperor  would  reward  his  third  brother;  about 
the  restored  freedom  of  Poland;  about  the  plead¬ 
ings  and  sorrows  of  the  beautiful  Queen  Louise. 
Enthusiastic  announcements  !  fablelike  plans  ! 
piquante  anecdotes! — ah,  there  was  enough  to 
talk  about! 

On  the  27th  of  July,  1807,  Paris  was  awak¬ 
ened  by  cannon  salutes  from  the  Hotel  des  Inva- 
lides.  Then  they  knew  that  the  Emperor  had 
reached  home. 


108 


IX 


II  est  facile  de  voir,  comment  il  6tait  au 
pouvoir  de  Napolfiou  de  bouleverser  cette 
ame  noble  et  genereuse  et  surtout  de- 
vou6e  fl,lui. 

Mme.  JuNOT  (de  son  mari). 

Je  prouverai  au  peuple  frau^ais,  que 
moi  seul,  je  suis  fait  pour  gouverner, 
decider  et  punir. 

Mot  de  NapolSon. 


HE  Governor  of  Paris  at  once  re¬ 
quested  a  private  interview  with  liis 
Majesty,  for  the  cold  glance  and  formal 
bearing  with  which  his  “  idol  ”  had  received  him 
in  the  forenoon  cut  him  to  the  quick,  embittered 
every  thought,  and  gave  him  not  a  moment’s 
peace.  His  request  was  as  quickly  granted,  and 
the  meeting  was  appointed  for  the  same  evening 
between  eight  and  nine. 

In  his  impatience  Junot  came  earlier  than  the 
appointed  time,  fairly  flying  up  the  steps,  and 
scarcely  noticing  the  salute  of  the  guard  and  the 
pages  as  he  passed  through  the  salle  des  gardes. 
In  the  salon  de  service  only  four  officers  were  on 
duty:  the  Adjutant,  the  Chamberlain,  the  Mas- 


109 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


ter  of  Horse,  and  the  Palace  Pr^fet,  for  it  was 
quite  unusual  for  the  Emperor  to  receive  at  such 
a  time.  While  Junot  was  waiting  for  the  sum¬ 
mons  from  the  Emperor,  he  forced  himself  to 
speak  a  few  words  to  the  gentlemen  present;  hut 
giving  this  up,  he  soon  began  to  pace  the  floor. 
A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed,  then  another,  and 
still  he  was  not  admitted.  It  was  known  that 
the  Emperor  was  at  work  this  evening  with  the 
Librarian  of  the  Foreign  Department,  Monsieur 
de  la  Nautte-Hautevive,  and  it  was  evident  that 
he  had  much  to  do. 

Out  of  humor  over  the  long  wait,  the  Governor 
of  Paris  seated  himself  at  last  in  one  of  the  big 
red  chairs  in  front  of  the  fireplace,  staring  hope¬ 
lessly  at  the  ceiling.  The  familiar  room,  with 
its  few  pieces  of  furniture,  was  but  faintly 
lighted.  Solemn  landscapes,  grown  black  with 
age,  hung  on  the  dimly  lighted  walls,  and  every¬ 
where  through  that  part  of  the  palace  were  scat¬ 
tered  pictures  of  Marie  Th6rese,  who  was  often 
portrayed  as  Minerva  surrounded  by  the  Graces. 

Junot  knew  these  apartments  as  well  as  he 
knew  his  own.  How  often  during  the  glorious 
days  of  the  Consulate  had  he  wandered  arm  in 
arm  with  Napoleon  through  those  spacious 
110 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


rooms!  Would  Napoleon  forget  him  now? 
Could  he  forget  his  old  companion  in  arms? 
Alas  !  the  Emperor  had  spoiled  him,  and  had 
made  him  believe  that  they  were  close  friends  in 
spite  of  the  purple  and  the  crown — the  same 
friends  they  had  been  at  Toulon,  and  in  Italy, 
and  in  Egypt.  And  now  .  .  . 

Junot  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand  to  shut 
out  the  vision  of  that  cold,  strange  glance  from 
a  comrade’s  eyes,  and  of  his  haughty  demeanor. 
The  memory  of  it  was  like  a  nightmare — some 
hideous  phantasm. 

At  last  the  guard  opened  the  door  of  the  Em¬ 
peror’s  salon  and  announced  the  Governor  of 
Paris,  who  entered  in  dress  uniform,  spurs  at  his 
heels,  and  with  his  hat  under  his  arm.  Ah,  how 
long  since  the  two  had  shared  meals  and  bed, 
and  had  strolled  arm  in  arm  through  the  Jardin 
des  Plants  ! 

The  Emperor  dropped  his  paper,  a  copy  of 
Le  Monitcur,  and  looked  long  and  sternly  at 
Junot  from  his  easy-chair  near  the  window. 
Then,  pulling  at  his  vest  and  blowing  a  few 
specks  of  dust  from  the  lapels  of  his  coat,  he 
stood  without  speaking. 

“Sire!”  cried  Junot,  impetuously,  drawing 


111 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


nearer,  and  no  longer  able  to  endure  this  cold  de¬ 
meanor  and  crushing  silence.  ‘  ‘  Your  Majesty  !  ’  ’ 
he  almost  entreated;  and  then  he  stopped. 

‘‘Yes,  Monsieur  Junot,  it  is  time  we  two  came 
to  an  understanding  and  spoke  plainly,”  said 
Napoleon,  stepping  to  his  desk,  and,  after  some 
searching,  drawing  forth  a  paper  which  he 
hastily  perused.  “  It  is  a  surprise  to  me,  Junot, 
and  quite  inexplicable,  that  you  could  betray 
the  confidence  of  your  friend  and  sovereign  to 
the  extent  revealed  by  this  paper.  What  is  the 
meaning  of  this?”  And  with  an  impatient 
gesture  he  threw  the  paper  down  and  turned 
away. 

“I  can  understand,”  answered  Junot,  point¬ 
ing  with  disdain  to  the  paper — “I  can  under¬ 
stand  now  what  it  is  that  your  Majesty  charges 
me  with.  I  recognize  the  handwriting  and  the 
form  of  a  report.  And  from  such  a  source  and 
with  such  evidence  you  judge  your  oldest  friend 
and  also  your  own  sister  !  ” 

“Be  still,  yoii  hothead!  No  one  may  men¬ 
tion  names  here.  I  can  see  plainly  enough  that 
you  have  a  bad  conscience.” 

‘  ‘  A  bad  conscience  in  regard  to  you  and  your 
wishes  you  have  never  seen  in  me,  Sire,”  an- 


112 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


swered  Junot,  firmly.  “So  you  cannot  possibly 
kuow  how  I  look  under  circumstances  which 
have  never  existed.” 

“You,  too,  whom  I  have  trusted  as  I  would 
myself  these  fifteen  years!  ”  continued  Napoleon 
without  listening,  as  he  dropped  into  a  chair 
and  tapped  its  arm  emphatically  with  his  snuff¬ 
box.  Then  suddenly  lifting  his  head  he  said, 
angrily: 

“And  not  even  a  little  caution — one  would 
think  yoxr  were  a  begfnner!  At  two  o’clock  in 
the  morning  your  carriage  is  seen  at  the  Elys6e; 
the  Grand  Duchess  plays  whist  at  your  house, 
and  is  there  early  and  late;  she  drives  to  the 
opera  in  your  carriage,  sits  in  your  box  ...  It 
really  looks  as  though  she  did  not  have  the 
slightest  conception  of  what  is  becoming  to  a 
Princess !  ” 

“Her  Imperial  Highness  has  always  been 
an  intimate  friend  of  my  wife,”  said  Junot, 
meekly. 

“Those  were  other  times,  other  customs! 
Does  Madame  Junot  allow  herself  to  be  used 
as  a  plaything  in  this  comedy?  I  understand 
her  but  poorly  if  she  allows  herself  to  be  duped 
either  by  you  or  Caroline!  ” 


113 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Junot  took  a  step  toward  the  Emperor,  and 
instinctively  placed  his  hand  upon  his  sword. 

“Your  Majesty,  do  you  remember  at  Mar¬ 
seilles,  when  I  was  in  love  with  Princess  Pauline, 
that  I  did  not  think  life  worth  living  after  you 
refused  me  her  ?  How  did  I  behave  then?  .  .  . 
Did  I  make  any  attempt  to  disobey  your  will  at 
.  .  .  It  might,  perhaps,  have  been  easier  then! 
Did  I  act  like  a  man  of  honor.  Sire,  or  did  I 
not  ? ’  ’ 

“  Bah  !  said  the  Emperor,  “  that  was  a  differ¬ 
ent  matter!  A  young  girl  cannot  be  named  in 
the  same  breath  with  a  married  woman.  You 
know  that  as  well  as  I — yes,  better.  A  pretty 
mess  if  this  report  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
her  husband,  and  noble  consequences  for  you  !  ’  ’ 

“If  Murat  is  offended,”  said  Junot,  hotly, 
“he  knows  where  he  can  find  me.  If  his  High¬ 
ness  feels  offended — and  I  deny  that  he  has  the 
slightest  reason  for  offense — then  ...” 

‘  ^  Great  God  !  That  would  make  the  scandal 
complete!  Are  you  crazy,  Junot?  You  know 
that  I  do  not  tolerate  duels  among  my  men.  I 
decide  all  difficulties.  Murat  knows  nothing;  he 
will  keep  quiet,  and  you  will  leave  Savary  alone 
for  this  report.  He  has  but  done  his  duty.  I 


114 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


have  a  right  to  know  everything  that  happens 
in  Paris — and  especially  what  my  Governor  is 
doing.” 

Junot  was  silent.  The  Emperor  walked  to 
and  fro,  slightly  bent  forward  in  deep  thought ! 
He  then  placed  himself  with  his  back  toward  the 
fireplace,  and  turned  to  Junot. 

‘‘Can  you  honestly  say  that  you  did  not  sus¬ 
pect  what  the  little  intriguer  really  wanted  of 
you?  ” 

Junot  was  shocked.  His  face  reddened,  and 
involuntarily  he  threw  his  head  back  as  he  met 
the  Emperor’s  glance. 

“  I  don’t  know  what  your  Majesty  means.” 

“Then  all  Paris  knows  more  than  its  Gov¬ 
ernor.  I  am  sure  that  every  cavalier  in  Paris 
could  answer  my  question.  I  know  Caroline — 
she  is  more  ambitious  than  all  her  brothers  com¬ 
bined.  And  you  have  not  discovered  that?  .  .  .” 

Junot  remained  silent. 

“  Answer  me,  man!  Defend  yourself !  Don’t 
you  understand  what  you  are  charged  with  ?  ’  ’ 
shouted  Napoleon,  angrily. 

Junot  lifted  his  large  eyes,  and  closely  ob¬ 
served  the  Emperor.  “No,”  he  said,  proudly. 
“The  charge  which  I  think  you  mean  is  so 


115 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

impossible,  so  unreasonable,  when  it  concerns 
me,  that  I  cannot  believe  that  any  person  of 
sound  reason  could  have  made  it.” 

“A  man,  and  especially  you,  can  do  much  to 
win  a  woman,  ’  ’  said  the  Emperor,  more  qnietly. 

“  If  an  assurance  is  necessary  between  you  and 
me,”  said  Junot,  bitterly,  “then  I  here  give  you 
my  word  of  honor  that  there  has  never  been  a 
word  of  politics  spoken  in  the  conversations 
with  which  your  sister  has  honored  me.  ’  ’ 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  the 
Governor  of  Paris  meeting  with  pride  the  pierc¬ 
ing  glance  of  the  Emperor,  who  again  snatched 
the  paper  from  the  table. 

‘  ‘  But  it  is  impossible,  ’  ’  he  said,  impatiently, 
half  to  himself.  ‘  ‘  Savary  has  a  fine  nose,  and 
everything  speaks  that  the  plan  .  .  .”  He 
glanced,  with  an  uncertain,  questioning  look,  at 
Junot,  who  did  not  stir  from  the  spot. 

“Tell  me  all!”  said  Napoleon. 

“Your  Majesty,  what  I  might  say  concerns 
but  me,  and  that  I  will  not  say.” 

“You  mean,  then,  that  this  was  nothing  but 
a  common  love  story  which  concerns  nobody  ?  ’  ’ 
Junot  lifted  his  head  proudly  but  remained 
silent,  while  the  Emperor  drew  slowly  near  him. 


116 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Then  he  spoke  eagerly:  “Your  Majesty,  you 
may  take  my  life — it  is  yours  by  right;  you  may 
deprive  me  of  my  sword  and  rank — I  shall  not 
complain.  But  you  can  never  make  me  break 
what  I  consider  the  law  of  honor.” 

‘‘You  have  called  me  your  best  friend  ...” 

“  It  was  the  pride  of  my  life  that  you  allowed 
me  to  do  so.  ’  ’ 

“  And  now,  for  the  sake  of  a  stupid  tradition 
.  .  .  Ah,  you  Frenchmen  !  ”  Napoleon  turned 
around  and  passed  his  fingers  through  his  hair. 
“I  demand  only  that  you  shall  honestly  tell  me 
what  has  happened  between  you  and  Murat’s  wife 
— mark  well  that  I  say  Murat’s  wife,  for  Caroline 
has  shown  that  she  is  Murat’s  wife  rather  than 
my  sister.” 

Junot  laid  his  hand  upon  his  heart.  “  I  give 
you  my  word  of  honor.  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say.” 

Napoleon,  looking  sharply  at  him,  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  and  strode  thoughtfully  up  and 
down  the  floor. 

“I  neither  want  your  life  nor  your  sword, 
which  you  so  romantically  offer  me;  but  .  .  . 
There  is  another  matter  of  which  I  wish  to  speak, 
Junot.  It  will  not  do  for  one  person  to  hold  the 

117 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


two  important  positions  which  you  now  occupy. 
You  are  both  Governor  of  Paris  and  my  First 
Adjutant.  You  may  take  your  choice  of  these 
posts,  but  the  offices  must  be  separated  here¬ 
after.  ’  ’ 

Junot,  with  emotion,  straightening  up  and 
looking  proudly  into  the  Emperor’s  eyes,  made 
no  answer. 

“You  understand,”  continued  the  Emperor, 
impatiently,  ‘  ‘  that  it  will  hereafter  be  impossible 
for  the  Governor  of  Paris — the  first  commander 
of  the  most  important  division  of  the  army — to 
go  freely  in  and  out  of  my  tent,  by  day  or  night, 
as  my  First  Adjutant.”  He  stopped,  and, 
eying  him  closely,  he  continued  in  a  louder 
voice:  “You  cannot  complain.  I  have  given 
you  your  choice.” 

Junot  was  still  very  pale  when  he  answered: 

“The  choice  is  soon  made.  I  will  never  give 
up — never  give  up — the  post  I  filled  for  you  at 
Toulon,  at  Arcole,  Lodi,  and  Castiglione,  in 
Egypt,  and  now,  last  of  all,  at  Austerlitz.  .  .  . 
Never  !  ” 

“You  don’t  seem  to  count  for  anything  the 
fact  that  I  made  you  Governor  of  Paris  %  ’  ’ 

“Sire  .  .  .” — Junot  made  a  step  toward  him 


118 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


— ‘‘I  have  been  as  proud  as  a  god  at  being  the 
Governor  of  Paris.  I  now  formally  resign  my 
post.’’ 

‘‘You  are  crazy,  Junot!”  shouted  the  Em¬ 
peror,  stamping  upon  the  floor.  “But  I  have 
other  things  to  do  besides  talking  reason  to 
you.  Go  !  ” 

General  Junot  bowed,  as  with  downcast  eyes, 
but  with  a  firm,  proud  carriage,  he  withdrew. 

Napoleon  once  opened  his  lips  as  if  to  speak 
and  call  him;  but,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulder, 
he  suddenly  faced  about,  walked  quickly  to  his 
room,  and  slammed  the  door. 


119 


X 


Je  n’hesite  pas  un  instant  a,  charger 
cette  malheureuse  relation  de  mon  mari 
avec  la  reine  de  Naples  de  tons  ses 
malheurs  et  a  la  regarder  comme  cause 
de  sa  mart. 

Mme.  JuNOT  (Mem.) 


o  THE  i^LYSEE!”  Madame  Junot  or¬ 
dered  her  carriage  the  next  morning 
after  her  husband’s  interview  with 
the  Emperor  at  the  Tuileries.  Though  it  was 
early,  the  August  day  was  already  oppressively 
warm,  and  within  the  carriage  Madame  Junot 
leaned  back  with  closed  eyes  and  a  sad,  almost 
pained,  look  upon  her  face.  Her  light  shawl 
had  slid  from  its  place,  revealing  her  beautiful 
arms  and  shoulders,  and  giving  a  glimpse  of  a 
bosom  that  heaved  with  many  a  sigh. 

After  a  drive  of  a  few  minutes  the  Governor’s 
wife  reached  the  Elysee,  where  she  ascended 
the  stairs.  She  did  not  enter  the  salon,  where 
the  members  of  the  court  usually  gathered,  but 


120 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


made  her  way  straight  to  the  private  apart¬ 
ments  of  the  Princess,  and  sought  from  the  first 
maid  in  attendance  to  arrange  an  immediate  in¬ 
terview  with  her  Imperial  Highness. 

Caroline  had  just  arisen,  and  was  seated  on  a 
low  couch  which,  like  the  rest  of  the  furniture 
in  the  room,  was  covered  with  white  lace  over 
rose-colored  silk.  One  of  her  maids  was  putting 
on  her  stockings,  while  another  was  busy  remov¬ 
ing  her  large,  lace  nightcap. 

Hastily  slipping  her  feet  (one  still  bare)  into 
some  Turkish  slippers,  with  her  abundant  hair 
hanging  loosely  over  her  lace-trimmed  chemise, 
and  with  a  colored  handkerchief  about  her  bare 
neck.  Princess  Caroline  gave  Madame  Junot  a 
quick,  searching  glance  as  she  entered;  then 
running  toward  Laurette,  she  grasped  her  with 
both  hands,  her  own  face  becoming  pale. 

“My  God,  how  you  look  !  What  is  the  mat¬ 
ter?  Has  Junot  met  with  an  accident?  .  .  .” 

Then  turning  to  her  maids,  she  said:  “Go! 
let  us  be  alone  !  ’  ’ 

Madame  Junot  threw  herself  upon  the  breast 
of  her  former  friend  and  sobbed  uncontrollably, 
for  she  suddenly  felt,  strangely  enough,  that 
here  she  should  be  understood  and  find  help. 


121 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

‘  ‘  Laurette,  what  has  happened  ?  ’  ’  asked  Caro¬ 
line  again,  anxiously. 

“Ah,  madaine  .  .  — Madame  Junot  lifted 
her  head  with  difficulty  and  dried  her  eyes — 
“he  has  had  a  scene  with  the  Emperor  which 
.  ,  She  sobbed  again  convulsively,  but 
fought  to  control  herself.  “  You  know  how  ter¬ 
ribly  he  takes  everything  to  heart,  and  the  Em¬ 
peror  is  more  to  him  than  anything  else  in  the 
world  .  .  .  Oh,  such  a  night !  .  .  .” 

“But,  Laurette  !  ”  she  screamed,  “he  has  not 
killed  himself?  .  .  .” 

“No;  but  he  has  threatened  to  do  so.  Ah,  to 
the  others  the  Emperor  can  say  what  he  likes, 
but  to  him  .  .  .  He  has  the  sword  in  his  hand 
...  It  will  end  with  that — I  feel  it.  He  has 
but  one  god,  the  Emperor,  and  then  when  he 
misjudges  him  ...” 

“But  my  brother  likes  Junot  so  much,”  said 
Caroline,  now  much  more  quiet.  “There  was 
a  time  when  he  was  more  to  him  than  any  of  his 
brothers.  I  cannot  understand  for  what  reason 
he  now  ...”  She  regarded  Laurette  search- 
ingly. 

The  Governor’s  wife  dropped  her  eyes  from 
the  piercing  glance. 


122 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“  The  reason  was  but  a  small  one  ...  I  have 
forgotten  it.”  Her  voice  was  as  proud  as  a 
queen’s. 

Caroline  bent  down  and  fastened  the  shoe  on 
her  bare  foot  which  she  drew  up  under  her,  and 
said: 

‘‘Madame  Junot,  I  shall  speak  to  my  brother 
regarding  this.” 

“He  has  resigned  his  post  as  Governor  of 
Paris!  He  will  retire  from  the  army  I  Think  of 
his  leaving  the  army!  It  will  be  his  death  !  ” 

“But  Junot  exaggerates — I  know  his  dreadful 
disposition.  The  Emperor  could  not  have  meant 
his  orders  so.” 

Madame  Junot  sat  with  her  hand  before  her 
eyes,  her  elbow  resting  on  her  knee.  She  slowly 
answered,  and  with  difficulty,  but  with  perfect 
clearness: 

“His  Majesty  spoke  about  ‘plans’  which,  if 
they  were  not  direct  treason  to  himself,  were  trea¬ 
son  toward  France  and  the  Constitution  .  .  .” 

Caroline,  startled,  leaned  back  on  the  couch, 
pale  and  silent.  Neither  spoke  for  many  mo¬ 
ments. 

“But,  Laurette,  you  should  speak  with  Bona¬ 
parte  yourself !  ’  ’  she  at  last  exclaimed,  suddenly. 


123 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

He  has  always  been  tender  and  considerate  of 
you.  Do  yon  remember  Mabnaison  ?  ...” 

‘‘Ah!  I  have  thought  of  everything,”  inter¬ 
rupted  Madame  Juuot,  quickly.  “But  you 
must  speak  with  him  first,  madame.  If  he  calls 
me  later  on,  I  shall  go  to  him.” 

Caroline  understood  her.  “You  are  proud, 
little  friend,”  she  said,  slowly,  with  admiration. 

Madame  Junot  smiled  ironically. 

“  Do  you  think  so  1  It  seems  to  me  as  though 
this  night  has  killed  all  pride  in  me.  How  I 
have  fought!  .  .  .  For  I  cannot,  I  will  not,  see 
him  destroy  his  future  and  our  children’s  future. 
To  break  with  the  Emperor  would  mean  to  us 
not  only  an  unhappiness,  which  he  never  could 
survive,  but  it  would  also  bring  with  it  complete 
ruin.” 

The  Princes,  after  another  long  silence,  said, 
decidedly: 

“You  did  right  in  coming  to  me  at  once, 
Madame  Junot.  You  know  I  have  never  forgot¬ 
ten  our  old  friendship,  and  my  interest  in  you 
both  is  so  great  that  I  shall  gladly  use  all  my 
influence  with  Bonaparte  to  reconcile  him  and 
your  husband— not  a  difficult  task,  I  hope.” 

The  Princess,  now  perfectly  composed,  realized 


124 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


that  she  would  have  au  unpleasant  scene  with 
her  brother,  which  she  had  hoped  to  avoid;  but 
she  dreaded  what  Junot  might  do  in  his  despair, 
and  she  also  feared  the  resolute,  courageous  Lau- 
rette,  who  knew  all.  But,  above  all,  Murat 
must  not  know  what  had  happened  between 
the  Emperor  and  Junot,  nor  should  the  Governor 
of  Paris  be  permitted  to  resign  his  post,  for,  if 
he  did,  all  the  world  would  know  that  his  action 
had  been  brought  about  by  direct  charges. 

“You  look  quite  miserable,  Laurette,”  she 
said,  gaily.  “It  is  too  bad  you  are  married  to 
such  a  hothead!  Stay  and  drink  a  cup  of  tea 
with  me,  as  in  the  good  old  days.  We  have  not 
as  yet  had  a  sensible  word  with  each  other,  just 
because  of  all  this  fuss  your  husband  is  making.” 

To  imitate  her  brother,  the  Princess  now  drank 
tea  in  the  morning,  which  she  had  served  on  the 
roomy  night-stand,  also  covered  with  rose-colored 
silk  under  a  magnificent  spread  of  Mechlin  lace. 

“Ah  yes,  these  men!  these  men!”  she 
sighed.  “They  make  us  nothing  but  trouble  ! 
Sister  Paulette,  in  comparison,  really  has  a  very 
comfortable  time  of  it.” 

‘  ‘  But  is  Prince  Camille  such  a  fine  example 
of  a  husband?”  exclaimed  Madame  Junot,  half 


125 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


laughingly,  yielding  to  the  genial  warmth  of  the 
tea,  and  deeply  touched  for  the  moment  by 
recollections  of  their  early  married  life,  when 
she  and  Caroline,  each  in  love  with  her  own  hus¬ 
band — free  from  care,  and  very  happy — had 
freely  chatted  thus  over  a  basket  of  grapes  or 
some  other  dainty  morsel. 

‘‘Prince  Camille  !  He  cares  no  more  for  her 
than  for  an  old  pair  of  boots,  so  he  cannot  trouble 
her  much.  No,  I  mean  because  she  has  no  chil¬ 
dren.  She  has  no  one  to  think  of  and  work  for; 
she  has  only  to  amuse  herself  and  take  the  world 
as  it  comes.  She  goes  her  way — and  he  goes  his. 
But  we  !  ”  The  Princess  sighed,  then  added,  in 
a  burst  of  confidence:  “Can  you  believe  it?  The 
other  day  I  found  on  the  table  in  my  room  a 
note  from  Murat  to  a  certain  little  obscure  .  .  . 
Yes,  you  know  her  very  well.  I  need  but  say 
that  her  mother  is  an  Englishwoman.  Just 
think  of  it ! — he  had  written  it  right  there,  while 
I  sat  at  his  side  with  Achille  and  Laetitia  !  ’  ’ 

Madame  Junot  had  no  difficulty  in  picturing 
to  herself  this  family  group. 

“And  then  people  were  surprised  when  I 
turned  this  miss  away  from  my  ball.  You  re¬ 
member  my  last  grand  ball,  just  before  the  Em- 


126 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


peror’s  return?  .  .  .  The  Queen  of  Holland 
protected  the  minx — just  to  irritate  me,  of 
course  !  You  should  have  heard  the  uproar  she 
made  in  her  behalf !  Now  she  also  has  Josephine 
interested  in  this  ^  model  ’  woman.  Ah,  my 
dear  Josephine,  you  will  regret  that !  ” 

The  Princess  laughed  in  her  forced,  hard  way. 
She  was  now  in  good  humor  again,  for  it  always 
amused  her  to  talk  with  Laurette,  who  had  been 
acquainted  with  the  whole  family  from  her  early 
youth.  Caroline,  like  all  the  Bonapartes,  was 
not  at  all  nervous,  and  the  thought  of  an  im¬ 
pending  scene  with  her  brother  did  not  disturb 
her  good  humor  in  the  least. 

“She  is  as  wily  as  a  snake,  that  girl,  and 
goodness  knows  what  the  men  see  in  her  !  ”  con¬ 
tinued  Caroline.  “But  they  are  all  crazy  about 
her.  Yes,  I  hope  I  am  not  too  indiscreet  when 
I  tell  you  that  the  Governor  of  Paris  also  pays 
his  respects  to  the  Guillebeau  family  on  Boule¬ 
vard  Madeleine.  There  is  gambling,  they  say, 
in  the  mother’s  salon,  and  later  in  the  eve¬ 
ning  the  daughters  appear  in  gipsy  costumes, 
dancing  and  beating  tambourines.  What  do 
you  think  of  that  ?  ’  ’ 

“  I  think  your  Highness  had  double  reason. 


127 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

then,  for  turning  her  away!”  Laurette  said, 
quickly.  Then  she  continued,  more  slowly: 

‘  ‘  A  gipsy  with  tambourine  !  How  is  it  pos¬ 
sible  that  she  dare  present  herself  in  this 
house  !  ” 

The  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve  appeared 
not  to  understand  Madame  Junot;  but  she  leaned 
back  and  rang  for  her  maids  to  aid  her  to  finish 
her  toilet  for  her  drive  to  the  Tuileries,  and  soon 
after  this  she  bade  good-by  to  Madame  Junot 
with  a  cordial  embrace,  at  the  same  time  send¬ 
ing  her  regards  to  Laurette’ s  husband. 


128 


XI 


“  Le  travail  est  mon  Element;  je  suis 
et  construit  pour  le  travail.  J’ai  conuu 
les  limites  de  mes  jambes,  j'ai  connu  les 
limites  de  mes  yeux— je  n'ai  jamais  pu 
connaitre  ceux  de  mon  travail." 

Napoleon. 

“  A  vous  ecouter,  Madame,  on  croirait 
que  je  vous  ai  frustree  de  I’heritage  du 
feu  roi.  notre  pdrel  ” 

Mot  de  I’Empereur 
it  la  Princesse  Caroline. 


FTER  Is'apoleoii  had  definitely  arranged 
his  home  at  the  Tuileries  in  such  a  way 
as  to  suit  his  tastes  and  his  needs,  he 
admitted  no  one  to  his  private  study  except  his 
secretary,  Meneval.  There,  in  this  large  and 
practical  room,  he  worked  from  breakfast  until 
dinner,  at  six,  interrupted  at  times  by  audiences 
with  his  ministers  and  others  in  an  adjoining 
room — the  so-called  arriere  cabinet. 

In  his  study  the  Emperor  permitted  no  intru¬ 
sions;  he  had  consecrated  it  to  his  work.  When 
busy  there  he  often  walked  the  floor  by  the 
hour,  dictating  rapidly.  The  overworked  secre¬ 
tary  sat  at  his  writing-table  by  the  window,  and 


129 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

restlessly  heaped  up  sheets  of  paper  without 
fiudiug  time  to  arrange  or  classify  them,  while 
the  Emperor  was  in  the  room.  At  the  middle 
of  the  floor  stood  Napoleon’s  own  writing-table, 
mounted  with  bronze.  This  was  also  entirely  cov¬ 
ered  with  books  and  papers,  and  underneath  it, 
screwed  to  the  floor,  stood  a  little  safe  to  which 
the  owner  alone  had  the  key.  Behind  its  artistic 
and  unbreakable  lock  were  concealed  the  most 
precious  and  important  secrets  in  the  empire. 
Napoleon’s  large  portfolio  was  the  only  confldant 
to  which  he  dared  entrust  his  new-born  plans, 
his  unfinished  combinations,  and  his  daring 
political  sketches  and  dreams. 

After  an  unusually  busy  forenoon,  his  Majesty 
the  Emperor  had  had  a  plain  luncheon,  alone,  as 
usual,  and  was  on  the  point  of  resuming  his 
work  when  the  Grand  Marshal,  Duroc,  an¬ 
nounced  to  him  that  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg 
and  Cleve  wished  an  immediate  interview  with 
him.  He  directed  that  she  should  be  admitted 
a  half  hour  later,  and,  turning  quietly  to  his 
secretary,  he  picked  up  the  thread  of  conversa¬ 
tion  where  it  had  been  interrupted  by  his  frugal 
meal. 

“Well,  Meneval,  have  you  the  letter  ready  for 


130 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


the  King  of  Naples  ?  ”  he  said,  as  he  seated  him¬ 
self  in  a  writing-chair,  which  he  seldom  occu¬ 
pied,  except  when  he  was  about  to  sign  his  name. 
“I  trust  you  did  not  forget  to  impress  upon  him 
the  fact  that,  in  the  present  condition  of  Europe, 
the  loss  of  Corfu  was  the  greatest  calamity  which 
coidd  befal  the  country!  That  is  enough.  I 
need  not  give  him  any  reasons — he  knows  them. 
But  underline  my  words.” 

The  Emperor  was  not  in  humor  to-day  to 
write  details.  In  silence  he  was  shown  one 
document  after  another  which  the  secretary  had 
had  time  to  finish  while  the  Emperor  was  at 
luncheon.  The  pen  sputtered  and  spread  a  rain 
of  ink  around  itself  as  he  quickly  wrote  his 
almost  unreadable  signature,  and  often  took  no 
other  trouble  than  simply  to  sign  a  large  iV. 

Since  his  return  from  Tilsit  he  was  more  than 
ever  full  of  work ;  for,  in  spite  of  his  constant 
care  of  every  detail  in  the  affairs  of  the  country, 
there  was  still  much  with  which  he  could  not 
occiipy  himself  while  in  the  field  and  at  such 
great  distances  from  Paris.  The  many  advance¬ 
ments  and  changes  in  civil  and  military  service 
needed  Napoleon’s  personal  attention,  besides 
the  long-contemplated  change  of  officials,  the  re- 


131 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


formation  of  Corps  Legislatif,  the  care  of  the  fleet 
(which,  since  Trafalgar,  needed  all  the  restora¬ 
tion  it  could  get),  the  coast  defenses,  which  had 
to  be  strengthened,  and — before  everything  else 
— the  complete  rearrangement  and  reorganiza¬ 
tion  of  the  flnances  of  the  empire  and  of  the 
Bank  of  France.  Added  to  this,  he  also  had  an 
eye  upon  all  the  great  road  and  canal  undertak¬ 
ings,  which  were  recommended  in  all  parts  of 
the  country,  and  the  monumental  works  for  the 
use  and  beauty  of  Paris,  which  he  impatiently 
hurried.  His  untiring  endeavor  to  get  sufficient 
good  water  for  his  capital  had  almost  succeeded. 
Large  fountains  in  all  parts  of  the  city  played 
day  and  night,  furnishing  even  the  poorest  with 
abundant  water.  The  Arch  of  Triumph,  the 
Vendome  Column,  the  Temple  (which  he  had 
decided  to  erect  the  year  before,  in  honor  of 
French  arms — le  Temple  de  la  Gloire),  the 
newly  begun  bridge  over  the  Seine  (which  should 
compare  with  the  Austerlitz  bridge  and  take  its 
name  from  Jena),  the  erection  of  enormous 
market  halls  (which  he  called  ^‘The  Louvre  of 
the  Poor”) — all  these  occupied  his  time,  just  as 
though  he  were  personally  the  leader  and  chief 
of  these  many  undertakings. 


132 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


To  him  came  all  reports — even  regarding  the 
smallest  details.  Stronger  and  stronger  there 
grew  within  him  a  jealous  desire  to  be  not  only 
the  one  who  ruled  the  present  time,  but  also  the 
only  one  who  judged,  thought,  and  acted  for  the 
future. 

At  last,  after  having  carefully  read  all  letters 
and  despatches,  he  arose  and  glanced  carelessly 
at  the  clock.  He  stretched  his  hand  for  his  hat 
and  sword,  nodded  to  Meneval,  who  scarcely 
had  time  to  look  up  from  his  papers,  and  went 
into  the  salon  to  receive  his  sister. 

Princess  Caroline  had  waited  a  long  time,  and, 
though  accustomed  to  her  brother’s  indifference, 
she  was  already  in  a  bad  humor  on  account  of 
the  delay.  He  had  let  her  wait  like  any 
other  supplicant!  His  manners  were  not  merely 
thoughtless,  they  were  positively  offensive!  He 
demanded  the  utmost  deference  from  every  one, 
but  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  put  the  least  re¬ 
straint  upon  himself. 

He  nodded  indifferently  to  the  Princess,  who 
courtesied  repeatedly  as  she  entered  the  room,  at¬ 
tired  in  a  forenoon  toilet  of  white  embroidered 
mousseline,  with  a  short  overskirt  of  rose-colored 
gauze,  decollete,  and  almost  without  sleeves. 


133 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Over  her  arms  hung  loosely  a  light  shawl,  gleam¬ 
ing  with  silver  thread,  and  on  her  head  was  a 
heavy  velvet  toque  decorated  with  white  plumes. 
What  with  head-gear,  the  noonday  heat,  and  the 
irritating  delay,  was  it  any  wonder  that  her  fine 
complexion  was  redder  than  was  becoming  to  her? 

‘‘Well,  my  dear  Caroline,  what  have  you  on 
your  mind  ?  ”  he  asked,  coolly. 

“On  my  mind?  .  .  .  What  else  should  a  sis¬ 
ter  who  has  not  seen  her  brother  for  several 
months  have  on  her  mind  than  the  wish  to  be 
permitted,  in  all  confidence,  to  bid  him  welcome 
home?” 

Napoleon  smiled.  He  walked  up  to  the  Prin¬ 
cess,  clasped  her  waist  with  both  hands,  lifted 
her  from  the  floor,  and  put  her  carefully  down 
again,  steadily  looking  straight  into  her  eyes 
with  the  same  unmerciful  glance. 

“A-ha,  little  friend,  and  you  think  that  you 
are  so  clever  that  you  can  deceive  me!  So  Junot 
has  already  told  you  all  ?  ” 

“No,”  she  answered,  without  taking  her  eyes 
from  him,  “Madame  Junot  has  done  it.” 

Napoleon  whistled  softly.  He  turned  on  his 
heels  and  commenced  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
floor,  with  his  hands  behind  his  back. 

134 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘^Madame  la  ‘  Gouverneuse'  !  She  is  a  smart 
little  devil!  She  sends  you  to  me;  no  one  but 
she  would  have  thought  of  disarming  me  in  this 
manner  !  ’  ’ 

He  stood  awhile  in  front  of  the  Princess,  who 
remained  silent,  swaying  his  body  to  and  fro; 
then  he  exclaimed: 

‘‘What  competent  and  daring  diplomats 
women  are  when  it  concerns  something  or  some 
one  they  love!  Laurette — the  proud  Laurette — 
has  come  to  you!  Naturally,  she  would  not,  on 
any  condition,  lose  her  title — ‘•Madame  la  Gov- 
ernante  de  Paris  ’  /  ” 

“She  supposes,  as  I  do,  that  Junot,  in  his 
usual  impetuousuess  and  completely  blind  per¬ 
sonal  devotion  to  you,  has  acted  too  impul¬ 
sively,”  said  the  Princess,  quietly  and  unre¬ 
strained. 

“And  you,  my  dear  Caroline,”  said  the  Em¬ 
peror,  ironically — “you  have,  of  course,  no  idea 
of  what  has  caused  Junot  to  take  this  step 

“Not  the  slightest!”  answered  her  Highness, 
still  unruffled. 

“My  compliments,  Aunonciade!  You  excel 
even  Mademoiselle  Mars!  Unfortunately,  you 
do  not  act  nearly  so  well  on  the  stage  as  in  real 


135 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

life.  But  you  need  not  exert  yourself  too  much 
here,”  he  said,  dryly.  “I  know  to  a  dot  all 
about  your  nice  little  romance  with  the  Governor 
of  Paris.” 

The  Princess  did  not  answer,  but  she  flushed 
with  indignation. 

'‘There  are  none  who  cause  me  more  disagree¬ 
able,  nonsensical  trouble  than  my  relatives.” 
And  the  Emperor  wandered  angrily  up  and  down 
the  room  with  long  strides,  working  himself  up 
more  and  more.  “Have  I  not  had  one  scene 
after  another  this  whole  winter  with  Hey  and 
Lannes  —  yes,  even  with  Augereau  !  —  because 
they  insist  that  I  always  prefer  Murat  to  them. 
God  knows  that  I  do  not  prefer  Murat  for  any 
other  reason  than  because  he  is  married  to  a 
Bonaparte  !  I  do  everything  for  my  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  what  thanks  have  I  for  it? 
In  the  field  your  husband  makes  trouble  be¬ 
tween  my  men  and  my  best  Generals,  and  here 
at  home  you  are  entangling  Junot  in  a  stupid 
story  !  ’  ’ 

The  Princess  had  now  recovered  her  self- 
possession.  She  was  absolutely  sure  that 
Junot,  in  his  usually  chivalrous  manner,  had 
been  silent  about  everything  concerning  her, 


136 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


so  she  could  easily  deny  all  her  brother’s 
charges. 

“I  really  do  not  comprehend  what  it  is  that 
your  Majesty  is  charging  me  with  !  I  have  been 
an  intimate  friend  of  Madame  Juuot  for  ten 
years,  and  if  it  pleases  your  Majesty  to  listen  to 
all  the  gossip  of  evil-minded  and  envious  per¬ 
sons,  then  ...  Yes,  then,  of  course,  I  have 
nothing  to  say.” 

“One  need  not  be  evil-minded  to  think  it  a 
little  suspicious  when  the  Governor’s  equipage 
can  always  be  seen  outside  ^}lys4e.  And,  not 
alone  that,  you  have  shown  yourself  with  him 
in  public  during  the  whole  spring — even  at 
Tivoli ! — danced  with  him  at  all  balls  .  .  .  Ah, 
you  may  easily  see  that  I  am  well  informed  !  ’  ’ 

“Now  this  is  going  too  far  !”  exclaimed  the 
Princess,  indignantly.  “I  should  not  be  per¬ 
mitted  to  dance  with  Junot,  who  has  known  me 
since  I  was  a  little  girl,  and  whom  Signora 
Lsetitia  to  this  day  calls  her  sixth  son  1  Is  it 
this  with  which  you  charge  me,  sire  ?  Then  you 
should  see  that  some  one  in  the  Tuileries  does 
not  behave  worse  than  at  the  i^lys^e  !  ” 

This  plain  thrust  at  the  Empress  made  Napo¬ 
leon  furious. 


137 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

“Silence,  Caroline!”  he  said,  severely, 
stamping  his  foot.  “After  all  that  I  know 
abont  you,  it  would  be  becoming  for  you  to  be¬ 
have  more  modestly.  If  you  had  been  led  on 
to  this  story  merely  because  you  were  infatuated 
with  Junot,  who  is  a  handsome  fellow  and 
who  understands  women  to  perfection,  I  should 
have  thought  nothing  of  it.  I  can  understand 
that  one  might  tire  of  Murat !  But  you  busy 
yourself  with  politics ;  you  have  had  entirely 
different  motives.  You — ”  he  looked  at  her 
and  lifted  his  hand.  “Ah,  perhaps  you  don’t 
think  I  have  seen  through  it  all !  ” 

The  Emperor  placed  himself  in  front  of  her 
and  took  her  forcibly  by  both  shoulders. 

“You  need  not  take  the  trouble  to  defend 
yourself ;  I  know  what  I  know.  But  one  thing 
I  demand  :  that  you  give  me  an  honest  answer 
to  this  question: — Have  you  ever  confided  to 
Junot  your,  as  it  seems,  quite  elaborate 
plans  % ’  ’ 

“No,”  answered  the  Princess,  in  a  short, 
pouty  manner.  She  realized  that  there  was  no 
use  in  further  concealment. 

“  Well  ?  .  .  .  Now,  at  last,  I  can  see  how  it  is 
with  this  whole  affair !  You  knew  Junot’s 
138 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


loyalty  to  me,  and  you  have  been  clever  enough 
not  to  confide  your  intrigues  to  him  ;  but  you 
wished,  in  any  case,  to  arrange  it  so  that  the 
Governor  of  Paris,  when  it  came  to  the  point, 
could  not  deny  you  anything  !  That  was  not  so 
stupidly  thought  out  for  a  woman — or,  rather, 
only  a  woman  could  devise  such  a  plan.  The 
worst  of  it  is,  however,  it  is  now  impossible  for 
me  to  find  out  whether  Junot  would  have  fallen 
into  the  trap  at  last.” 

Caroline  was  not  easily  scared;  her  nerves 
were  completely  mastered  by  her  will — a  charac¬ 
teristic  of  the  family  which  she  possessed  to  the 
highest  degree.  Her  brother’s  anger  and  irony 
did  not  make  the  slightest  impression  upon 
her. 

‘‘And  if  I  really  had  had  the  thought  with 
which  your  Majesty  pleases  to  accuse  me,  would 
it  really  have  been  so  great  a  crime  ?  Eemem- 
ber,  all  this  began  before  the  5th  of  May  !  And 
if  the  calamity  had  happened  to  France  and  to 
us  all  at  that  time,  God  forbid  now  and  always 
.  .  .  Well,  your  Majesty  is  but  human,  like  the 
rest  of  us  .  .  .  Would  it  then  have  been  agree¬ 
able  for  us — for  your  Majesty’s  sisters  and  broth¬ 
ers,  who  have  the  first  right  to  your  care — that  a 


139 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

stranger,  in  the  hands  of  the  Empress  and  Eu¬ 
gene  de  Beauharnais,  should  become  our  mas¬ 
ter?  .  . 

“A  stranger  !  I  do  not  know  why  Louis’  son 
should  not  be  as  near  to  me  as  youi’  husband 
and  Achille?” 

The  Princess  shrugged  her  shoulders  and 
smiled  meaningly. 

The  Emperor  understood  it,  of  course,  very 
weD,  for  he  answered,  dryly: 

“Dear  Caroline,  you  can  be  very  clever,  but 
once  in  a  while  your  fancies  get  the  best  of  you. 
You  have  already  given  several  versions  to  the 
story  about  this  poor  child’s  birth  ...  It  is 
all  nonsense.  I  hope  that  Murat  in  the  future 
can  be  as  sure  of  his  youngsters  as  Louis  is  of 
his !  ” 

“Napoleon!”  The  Princess  arose  threat¬ 
eningly  ;  her  face  burned  scarlet  under  the 
white  feathers  of  the  toque. 

The  Emperor  seemed  not  to  hear  her,  nor  to 
be  inclined  to  continue  the  conversation,  for  he 
knew  from  experience  that  he  might  now  expect 
both  fainting  and  tears.  He  turned  around  and 
glanced  at  the  clock  on  the  mantel. 

“Good-by,  Madame  Caroline;  you  detain  me 


140 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


much  too  long  with  your  stupidities.  By  the 
way,  remember  me  to  Madame  Junot,  and  tell 
her  that  she  need  not  fear  for  her  stately  title. 
Do  you  believe  that  I,  for  the  sake  of  your  ex¬ 
travagances,  would  part  with  a  person  who  can 
fill  his  position  and  be  of  unaccountable  use  to 
me?  He  will  remain  the  Governor  of  Paris,  of 
course,  as  long  as  there  is  use  for  him  there, 
whether  he  wishes  it  or  not.  But  he  must  go 
away  for  a  while  until  they  are  through  gossip¬ 
ing  at  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain.  .  .  .  Well, 
but  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  you  !  Now  let 
me  see  that  in  the  future  you  behave  decently.” 

At  the  door  he  spoke  again:  “  It  would  really 
be  better  to  rid  myself  of  you  and  your  husband 
than  to  send  Junot  away.  Why  do  you  not 
retire  to  your  ducal  estate  ?  Look  at  Elisa ! 
She  is  of  use  to  me,  and  the  stupid  things  she 
does  are  at  least  not  done  in  Paris.” 

The  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve,  who  a 
minute  ago  had  lifted  her  head  full  of  expect¬ 
ancy,  when  the  Emperor  spoke  of  sending  her 
away,  dropped  again  offendedly  into  her  former 
position. 

^^My  estate!  my  dukedom!”  she  said,  con¬ 
temptuously.  “To  others  your  Majesty  donates 


141 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

crowns;  but  to  us,  your  own  sisters,  who  have  a 
certain  right  .  . 

“Eight!”  interrupted  Napoleon,  ironically. 
“Dearest  sister,  it  seems  to  me  that  we  have 
quite  conscientiously  divided  the  inheritance 
from  the  King  .  .  .  our  father  !  ” 


142 


XII 


Paris  —  Paris,  c’est  la  France  I 

Napoleon. 

Son  caractSre  m’^tait  connu.  II  ne  fal 
lait  pas  aller  trop  loin  avec  lui,  mais  il 
fallait  se  donner  de  garde  aussi  de  de- 
meurer  en  arriere. 

Mme.  JoNOT 
(sur  I’Empereur). 

ADAME  JuNOT  had  speut  the  afternoon 
before  the  15th  of  August,  the  anni¬ 
versary  of  Napoleon’s  birthday,  with 
the  Empress;  and  now  that  it  was  evening  she 
was  seated  in  her  own  home,  tired  and  not  a  little 
irritated  because  she  had  been  obliged  to  spend 
a  whole  half  hour  on  the  road  between  the  Tuil- 
eries  and  the  Champs-^llys4es.  The  coachman 
had  picked  his  way  foot  by  foot,  stopping  fre¬ 
quently  to  avoid  the  streams  of  people  who 
poured  from  all  directions  toward  the  Tuileries, 
both  to  see  the  fireworks  along  the  river  and  to 
view  the  Champs- i^ly sees  illuminated  with  the 
lanterns  in  the  national  colors. 

Madame  Junot  was  glad  to  be  safely  home  at 
last,  sitting  cosily  in  her  large  arm-chair,  and 
looking  thoughtfully  but  uninterestedly  out  upon 


143 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


gayly  lighted  Paris.  The  glow  from  the  many 
lanterns  outside  faintly  lighted  her  room,  while 
the  excited  exclamations  now  sounded  more 
hushed  in  the  distance,  joyously  mingliug  with 
the  noise  from  the  passing  crowds. 

Madame  Junot’s  thoughts  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  Emperor’s  birthday;  they  were  not 
even  occupied  with  the  grand  fdte  in  his  honor, 
at  which  she  should  preside  on  the  morrow  at 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  where,  as  the  Governor’s 
wife,  she  should  do  les  honneurs  for  Napoleon. 
Her  arrangements  were  already  made  with  all 
the  skill  of  an  adept  in  the  art  of  entertaining, 
so  they  were  giving  her  no  further  trouble. 

The  door  to  the  adjoining  salon  opened  sud¬ 
denly;  she  heard  quick,  well-known  steps  which 
gradually  grew  slower  and  finally  hesitated.  .  .  . 
She  sat  and  listened  anxiously,  without  rising  or 
changing  her  position,  as  Junot  walked  slowly 
into  the  room. 

There  was  no  other  light  in  the  room  than  that 
which  came  through  the  windows  from  the 
street,  so  she  could  not  see  his  face;  but  from  his 
walk  and  the  relaxed  carriage  of  his  shoulders 
she  knew  that  there  was  something  wrong — in 
fact,  she  felt  it  the  moment  he  entered. 


144 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“Is  it  you,  Junot?”  she  asked,  slowly,  look¬ 
ing  toward  the  door. 

“Yes,”  he  answered,  quietly,  as  he  sat  down 
opposite  to  her  at  the  table  and  rested  both 
hands  upon  his  knees.  The  sharp  explosion  of 
the  rockets  as  they  rose  in  the  air  and  the  joyful 
exclamations  from  the  streets  were  plainly  heard 
in  the  quiet  room. 

Suddenly,  with  painful  effort,  he  said:  “  With¬ 
in  a  month  I  leave  Paris.” 

She  started  from  the  chair.  “ Can  it  be  true? 
What  do  you  say  ?  Leave  Paris  !  ...” 

“Napoleon  does  not  want  me  here  any  longer. 
He  will  send  me  away  when  he  himself  comes 
home.  He  knows  me;  he  knows  that  that  is  the 
hardest  punishment  he  ever  ...”  The  Gov¬ 
ernor  of  Paris  stopped,  straightened  himself  in 
the  chair  and  drummed  loudly  with  his  fingers 
on  the  table. 

Madame  Junot  bent  forward  and  grasped  his 
hand. 

“Tell  me  all,  dear  one,”  she  said,  tenderly, 
soothingly. 

“There  is  nothing  more  to  tell,”  he  answered 
in  the  same  forced,  indifferent  manner.  “The 
Emperor  has  just  appointed  me  as  First  Com- 


145 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

mander  of  the  Army  of  the  Gironde  .  .  And 
to  her  exclamation,  which  showed  both  surprise 
and  relief,  he  raised  his  hand  hopelessly,  and 
exclaimed: 

‘  ‘  Can  you  not  see  that  he  wants  to  get  rid  of 
mel  That  this  is  disgrace  and  exile  ?  .  . 

Laurette  at  the  same  moment  grasped  its  full 
import,  realizing  its  meaning  just  as  clearly  as 
he.  ‘  ^  Is  not  that  what  I  have  always  told 
you?”  she  thought;  but  she  could  not  bear  to 
tell  him  so,  now  adding: 

“Surely  the  Emperor  has  shown  a  very  re¬ 
markable  sign  of  the  confidence  he  has  in  you, 
and  he  could  scarcely  have  meant  this  in  any 
other  way  than  as  a  special  honor  to  you.  Did 
you  speak  with  him  yourself?” 

“No;  I  received  the  news  through  the  War 
Department.  .  .  .  But  I  will  not  accept  it,”  he 
continued,  impetuously.  “  I  will  not  do  it.  No 
one  need  imagine  that  he  can  drive  me  out  of 
the  country  in  this  manner  !  As  soon  as  I  am 
away  .  .  .  Well,  you  know,  the  absent  one  is 
always  in  the  wrong.  ’  ’ 

He  impatiently  began  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  floor.  She  followed  him  anxiously  with  her 
eyes,  and  at  last  she  said: 


146 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘'Speak  to  the  Emperor  yourself  to-morrow 
at  the  festival,  or  aj)ply  for  an  audience.  Ah, 
could  he  only  see  you  as  I  see  you  now  !  .  .  .” 

The  siucerity  of  her  voice  touched  him,  and 
drew  him  to  a  seat  on  the  arm  of  her  chair. 

“I  will  let  you  remain  here.  You  shall  see 
that  they  don’t  make  trouble  for  me  with  him. 
My  own  Laurette  !  Had  I  not  you,  then  .  .  .” 

She  laughed  lightly,  glad  for  his  tender,  ear¬ 
nest  glance  and  words. 

“Then  you  would  comfort  yourself  in  some 
other  way!”  She  sighed,  and  they  both  sat 
silently  for  a  moment,  hand  in  hand.  Then  she 
slowly  arose. 

“Let  us  retire.  To-morrow  will  be  a  hard 
day  for  both  of  us.” 

Napoleon  had  purposely  selected  his  birthday, 
the  15th  of  August,  for  this  feast,  by  which  the 
city  of  Paris  should  celebrate  his  home-coming. 
He  wished  to  give  as  much  eclat  to  the  occasion 
as  possible,  and  thus  flatter  the  city.  He  well 
knew  that  he  had  more  difficulty  in  conquering 
Paris  than  in  conquering  the  whole  world,  and 
he  never  felt  quite  sure  of  his  absolute  posses¬ 
sion  of  it.  The  Emperor  knew  that  it  was  first 

147 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


necessary  to  control  the  dance-halls,  wine-cel¬ 
lars,  caf6s,  and  salons  of  Paris  before  he  could 
lead  France  and,  through  France,  Europe.  This 
latent  undercurrent  of  ever-changing  resist¬ 
ance,  which  Paris  always  offered,  irritated  and 
troubled  him  more  than  he  was  really  willing  to 
admit.  He  who  never  feared  the  whole  of 
allied  Europe  for  a  moment,  and  who,  with  a 
glance  and  a  smile,  got  his  armies  to  go  to  the 
end  of  the  world;  who  understood  how  to  compel 
the  mighty  Eoman  Church  to  make  the  most 
unheard-of  concessions;  who  reduced  the  Senate 
to  a  choir  of  praise-singing,  humble  spirits;  who 
unflinchingly  dissolved  the  whole  tribunal  when 
he  thought  it  no  longer  useful — he  did  not  fear, 
the  word  “fear”  did  not  flt  him;  but  he  felt 
greatly  annoyed  by  the  saucy  criticisms  in  which 
the  Parisian  tongues  and  pens  indulged  in  re¬ 
gard  to  himself  and  his  institutions.  He  had 
far  more  respect  for  a  gathering  of  people  on  the 
carousal  square,  or  in  the  Palais-Eoyal,  than  for 
a  hostile  army  of  300,000  men.  With  untiring 
care  he  saw  that  the  troops  which  lay  in  Paris 
never  had  combats  with  the  inhabitants  of  the 
city — “It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  take 
part  against  the  people  !  ”  he  said. 


148 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Many  important  scenes  in  the  history  of 
France  had  been  enacted  in  the  old  Hotel  de 
Ville,  but  now  it  was  not  considered  large 
enough  for  the  coming  festivities.  In  conse¬ 
quence,  there  was  erected  for  this  occasion  a 
stately  and  very  roomy  hall  in  the  inner  yard  of 
this  building.  Count  Frochot,  the  Pr4fet  of 
Paris,  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  arrange  the 
program  for  the  festival,  and  to  be  the  leader  of 
it  all.  The  details,  however,  had  to  be  laid  be¬ 
fore  Duroc  and  the  master  of  ceremonies,  M.  de 
S^gur.  The  Governor  of  Paris  had  but  to  re¬ 
ceive  his  Majesty  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and 
lead  him  into  the  hall.  His  wife  and  the  Pr6fet 
had  the  honor  of  escorting  the  Empress. 

Madame  Junot  was  quite  equal  to  the  de¬ 
mands  of  the  occasion,  but  she  was  nervous 
over  the  knowledge  that  her  husband  intended 
to  make  use  of  the  first  opportunity  to  speak  a 
few  words  to  Napoleon  about  the  journey  to 
Bayonne.  He  was  too  impetuous  to  postpone 
such  a  disagreeable  task  any  longer  than  was 
necessary,  and  she  was  very  anxious  to  know 
how  the  Emperor  would  receive  his  petition. 

It  was  a  mild,  still  August  evening.  She 
stood  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  by  the  side  of 


149 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Count  Frocliot,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  her 
Majesty’s  cortege.  But  she  was  uot  the  least 
cold  in  her  toilet  of  silk  tulle — lamee  W  argent. 
Behind  her  stood  twenty-four  ladies,  all  in  white, 
who  had  been  selected  to  welcome  the  Empress 
as  representatives  of  the  foremost  names  in  the 
industrial  and  ceremonial  world  of  Paris. 

They  had  waited  a  long  time  before  the  car¬ 
riages  at  last  drove  up.  After  her  Majesty 
came  Napoleon’s  mother,  then  the  Queen  of 
Holland,  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg,  and  Prin¬ 
cess  Stephanie  of  Baden.  The  imperial  ladies 
were  received  with  all  the  form  dictated  by  eti¬ 
quette  as  Empress  Josephine  stepped  slowly  up 
the  stairs  between  Madame  Junot  and  the 
Prefet. 

The  Governor’s  wife  opened  the  ball  with  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Berg.  Junot  danced  with  Prin¬ 
cess  Stephanie.  Now  Murat  had  always  shown 
himself  very  gallant  toward  Madame  Junot,  but 
to-night  he  excelled  himself.  He  was,  as  it 
was  then  the  fashion  to  express  it,  a  real  ‘  ‘  Trou¬ 
badour,”  overflowing  with  sentimental  compli¬ 
ments.  He  wore  a  glittering,  fantastic  uniform 
in  “Polish  style,”  as  he  himself  expressed  it, 
but  his  brother-in-law,  the  Emperor,  called  it 


150 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


d,  la  FranconV  But,  anyhow,  he  looked  stately 
in  his  chapska  and  his  short  jacket,  a  la  Polonaise. 
Madame  Juuot,  who  did  not  have  more  respect 
for  his  Highness  than  she  used  to  have  for  him 
when  he  was  but  General  Murat,  joked  gayly 
with  him  about  all  the  plumes  which  he  had 
used  during  the  campaign.  He  assured  her,  with 
his  hand  upon  his  heart,  that  he  had  thrown 
them  away  as  soon  as  a  drop  of  rain  or  a  grain  of 
dust  had  fallen  upon  them — “So  that  my  lady’s 
color,  white” — here  he  looked  at  her  snow- 
white  costume — “  should  always  be  spotless.” 

She  burst  out  laughing,  and,  with  a  flattering 
remark  about  his  brilliant  charge  against  the 
Enssians  at  Eylau,  she  answered,  gayly,  “With 
such  a  lot  of  plumes — yes,  even  with  less — one 
ought  to  lead  France  to  victory.” 

The  Emperor,  as  usual,  walked  around  the 
hall,  and  stopped  behind  them,  hearing  the  last 
remark. 

‘  ‘  She  has  not  forgotten  her  repartee,  ‘  Madame 
la  Gouverneuse  ’  You  are  wasting  your  time  in 
being  gallant  to  her,  Murat.  She  has  always 
been  a  model  of  devotion  to  her  husband.”  He 
met  her  glance,  fleetingly,  and  turned  his  head 
half  away.  “Do  you  remember,  madame,  when 


151 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

you  implored  me  last  summer  to  be  permitted 
to  go  to  Juuot  at  Parma  ?  Wbat  do  you  say  now 
to  a  trip  to  Bayonne  ?  ’  ’ 

Madam  Juuot  smiled.  ‘  ‘  If  your  Majesty  would 
permit  it,  I  should  prefer  to  remain  in  Paris.” 

“Ah,  the  ladies  !  they  are  all  alike  !  Paris  ! 
Paris  !  .  .  .  As  though  they  could  not  live  out¬ 
side  of  Paris  !  ’  ’ 

“Yes,  the  gentlemen — the  gentlemen,  they  can 
.  .  .”  Madame  Junot  smiled  maliciously,  look¬ 
ing  up  at  the  Emperor.  She  lowered  her  eyes 
again,  afraid  that  she  had  shown  too  much 
familiarity  among  all  these  people  who  did  not 
belong  to  her  usual  circle,  and  her  eyelashes 
threw  a  soft,  dark  shadow  over  her  finely  flushed 
cheeks  with  their  little  dimples.  Although  she 
was  not  so  stately  as  her  beautiful  Grecian 
mother,  who  had  been  Bonaparte’s  first  love, 
she  still  resembled  her  very  much.  After  this 
by-play  Napoleon  had  intended  to  pass  on  ;  but 
he  remained  standing  and  pinched  her  ear 
slightly  as  he  forced  her  to  lift  her  head  again. 

“How  old  are  you  really,  Madame  Junot? 
Is  it  already  your  intention  to  hide  your  age  ? 
By  the  way,  it  seems  to  me  that  you  are  very 
modestly  attired.” 

152 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Madame  Jiinot  was,  of  course,  as  decollete  as 
the  other  ladies,  which  meant  a  good  deal,  so 
she  laughed  as  she  answered: 

‘‘I  am  twenty-three  years  old.  It  has  never 
occurred  to  me  to  hide  my  age — at  least,  not 
from  you.  Sire,  whom  I  could  not  deceive,  any¬ 
how.” 

“Yes,  we  are  indeed  old  acquaintances,  Ma¬ 
dame  Laurette.  Before  you  were  married  you 
were  a  pale  little  youngster — but  now  !  ’  ’ 

Laurette  did  not  answer,  but  bent  her  head  a 
little. 

“Look  at  her,  Murat!  There  is  a  wife  who 
is  in  love  with  her  husband  !  ’  ’ 

Murat  laughed  in  a  noisy  manner  that  always 
irritated  and  hurt  Madame  Junot. 

“Junot  has  always  had  a  wonderful  power 
over  women.  Do  you  remember  in  the  Orient, 
Murat,  the  yellow  Xraxarane  ?  He  could  have 
burned  her  at  the  stake  like  an  Indian  widow 
when  he  went  away;  she  would  not  have  ob¬ 
jected.  At  the  most,  she  would  have  extin¬ 
guished  the  fire  with  her  tears.” 

Madame  Junot  knew  that  it  was  the  Emper¬ 
or’s  delight  to  tease  the  young  matrons  with 
their  husbands’  old  love  affairs,  which  he  had  at 

153 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

his  fingers’  ends.  She  had  heard  them  so  often 
that  she  was  hardened  to  them. 

“Ah,  Jaunette,’’''  she  said,  laughingly;  “she 
was  sweet.  I  have  her  portrait  on  the  mantel  in 
my  room.” 

“Indeed  !  I  have  more  and  more  respect  for 
you,  Madame  Junot.  You  are  exceptionally 
sensible.” 

“Ah,  I  assure  you,  your  Majesty,  you  over¬ 
value  me.  Jaunette  was  long  before  my  time. 
But  perhaps  had  you  spoken  about  some  one 
else,  not  quite  so  colored  .  .  .  Had  she  resem¬ 
bled  another  favorite  odalisk  from  down  there 
who  was  once  shown  me — a  silk-soft  blonde,  with 
eyes  like  sapphires,  and  such  hands  .  .  .  and 
lips  .  .  .” 

Murat  stopped  laughing,  and  looked  at  Ma¬ 
dame  Junot  with  an  anxious  warning;  but  Na¬ 
poleon  laughed  aloud.  This  quite  impertinent 
allusion  to  his  well-known  Egyptian  mistress 
was  far  from  offending  him;  on  the  contrary,  it 
amused  him  for  the  moment,  at  least. 

“Unfortunately,  I  have  not  seen  the  lady  of 
whom  you  are  speaking,”  he  said,  with  assumed 
earnestness.  “Ah,  so — did  Junot  also  keep 
white  slaves  in  his  seraglio  ?  ’  ’ 

154 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘No,  Sire — oh,  no.  They  were  reserved  for 
— for — the  Sultan.” 

“Yes,  the  Sultan  can  allow  himself  many 
caprices  !  ”  The  Emperor  smiled.  “Although, 
unfortunately,  they  are  not  all  satisfied — is  it 
not  so,  Madame  Junot?  ” 

He  watched  her  closely  with  a  smile,  with 
something  peculiar  in  his  glance  which  she  did 
not  quite  understand.  He  had  already  turned 
to  go,  hut  bethought  himself,  and  said,  softly, 
coming  quite  close  to  her: 

propos!  Your  husband  spoke  to  me,  a 
little  while  ago,  in  regard  to  this  trip  to  Ba¬ 
yonne.  It  did  not  quite  suit  me  at  that  time  to 
consider  any  change  in  the  plan,  but  I  did  not 
finish  my  conference  with  him.  He  ought  to 
know,  though,  that  my  orders  are  never  changed. 
Besides,  I  have  use  for  him  at  Bayonne  in  mat¬ 
ters  of  which  he  shall  soon  know.  But  you  .  .  . 
well,  you  tell  me  that  you  would  rather  remain 
in  Paris  ...”  And  with  a  careless  nod  he 
continued  his  round. 

Murat  could  not  get  the  conversation  started 
again;  his  partner  had  suddenly  become  pecul¬ 
iarly  distracted. 


155 


XIII 


On  aime  toujours  bien  plus  pour  sot 
meme  que  pour  autrui,  et  le  premier  des 
biens  que  I’amour  donne,  c’est  d’aimer. 

Mme.  JuNOT 
(“  fitienne  Saulnier  ”). 


T  was  an  evening  toward  the  end  of  this 
same  momentous  month  of  August. 
The  clock  had  just  struck  nine;  and  as 
it  did  not  look  as  though  Junot  would  soon  come 
home,  Madame  Junot  thought  she  would  retire, 
as  she  was  tired  and,  unusual  enough,  alone. 
While  one  of  her  maids  was  brushing  her  hair 
and  arranging  it  for  the  night  old  Josephine 
entered  the  room. 

‘‘Madame,’’  she  said,  “there  is  a  lackey  in 
the  waiting-room  with  a  letter  from  the  Tuileries. 
He  has  orders  to  wait  for  monseigneur.  I  be¬ 
lieve  it  is  in  haste.” 

Madame  Junot  turned  her  head  languidly, 
while  she  slowly  filled  the  hollow  of  her  hand 
with  eau  de  Portugal  from  the  crystal  bottle. 

“Who  is  it  from ? ” 

“  From  the  Grand  Marshal.” 


156 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Madame  Junot  arose  quickly,  impatiently 
twisted  the  loose,  hanging  hair  into  a  coil  high 
on  her  head,  and  into  it  hastily  stuck  a  comb 
studded  with  pearls.  She  threw  a  shawl  over 
her  lace  dressing-gown, 

“Let  Martin  and  Dubois  saddle  their  horses 
at  once,  and  see  if  they  can  find  monseigneur. 
Wait,  I  will  write  a  few  words.  .  .  ,  He  must 
be  either  with  Madame  de  Lalligant  or  with  Car¬ 
dinal  Dubelloy.  So  here — please  !  .  .  .” 

Laurette  had  suddenly  lost  all  inclination  to 
go  to  bed,  so  anxious  was  she  to  know  w'hat 
Duroc  could  wish  to  tell  her  husband.  She 
wrapped  herself  in  her  large  cashmere  shawl, 
and  had  the  candles  lighted  in  her  boudoir. 

Junot,  tired  out,  came  in  with  the  open  letter 
in  his  hand. 

“Thank  God,  you  are  here  at  last!”  His 
wife  turned  quickly  away  from  the  window 
where  she  had  posted  herself  to  watch  for  him. 
“Have  you  met  Martin  or  Dubois'?  .  .  .” 

“  No.  ”  He  threw  the  letter  indifferently  upon 
her  writing-desk,  “I — I  was  .  .  .  I  found  out, 
just  the  same,  what  it  was  about.” 

Madame  Junot  looked  at  him.  “Ah!  I  un- 

157 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

derstand  ...”  She  took  the  letter  and  read  it 
through,  half  aloud. 

It  was  from  Duroc,  hut  it  concerned  entirely 
different  matters  from  what  she  had  thought. 
He  notified  Junot,  in  few  words,  that  Princess 
Catherine  of  Wiirtemberg,  the  future  Queen  of 
Westphalia,  would  arrive  at  Eaincy  the  next 
morning  with  her  suite.  His  Majesty  had  de¬ 
cided  that  she  should  breakfast  and  rest  at 
Eaincy  after  the  journey. 

The  Emperor  did  not  wish  that  his  brother’s 
prospective  bride  should  make  a  grand  entrance 
into  the  city  at  high  noon,  as  did  the  Duchess  of 
Bourgogne  and  other  Princesses  under  Vancien 
regime.  He  thought  that  she  might  remain  with 
the  Junots  at  Eaincy,  which  was  bnt  a  short  dis¬ 
tance  from  Paris,  until  the  evening. 

‘‘Madame  Junot  knows  how  to  talk  to  Prin¬ 
cesses.  Let  her  entertain  Princess  Catharine 
until  I  send  Jerome  for  her  !  ” 

During  the  reading  Jnnot  sat  down  on  the 
sofa  between  the  windows,  crossed  his  legs,  and 
was  thoughtfully  stroking  his  silk  stockings. 
He  was  still  in  evening  dress,  with  low  shoes  and 
white  knee-breeches.  By  his  side  lay  his  large 
three-cornered  hat. 

158 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Well,  this  may  prove  to  be  quite  amusing  !  ” 
Madame  Junot  folded  the  letter  energetically. 
‘'He  gives  us  orders  to  receive  a  Princess  to¬ 
morrow  morning  and  amuse  her  the  whole  day, 
just  as  he  would  give  his  valet  orders  to  bring 
him  his  snuff-box  !  It  is  almost  eleven  o’clock, 
and  we  have  but  the  night  before  us  in  which 
to  drive  to  Rainey  and  make  all  arrangements  !  ’  ’ 

Junot  pulled  at  his  shoe  and  looked  up.  He 
knit  his  brow  and  whistled,  but  he  did  not 
speak. 

Laurette  looked  up  at  him  uneasily,  sure  that 
he  had  come  directly  from  the  ^ilys6e.  What 
could  he  have  heard  which  made  him  now  so 
sullen  and  disinterested  in  everything  at  home  ? 
She  wrapped  herself  in  her  crimson  shawl  with 
a  wrathful  gesture,  crossed  her  bare  arms,  and 
stood  looking  straight  at  her  husband. 

“Junot  .  .  .  you  don’t  help  me  at  all !  .  .  .” 

“  Ah,  Laurette” — he  impatiently  put  his  foot 
to  the  floor  and  bent  forward,  with  his  elbows 
on  his  knees — “I  have  really  so  many  other 
things  to  think  of !  What  do  you  wish  me  to 
do?  The  Emperor  wishes  it  thus.” 

He  looked  up  at  her  while  he  spoke.  She 
suddenly  felt  a  deep  pity  for  him.  She  knew 


159 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

what  the  trouble  was — now,  when  every  one 
thought  that  he  was  in  disgrace  with  the  Em¬ 
peror,  they  were  all  turning  away  from  him. 

‘‘You  are  right;  there  is  nothing  to  do!” 
she  exclaimed,  gayly.  “Do  you  wish  me  to 
answer  Duroc  ?  Of  course,  she  is  welcome,  poor 
child,  who  has  to  marry  Jerome !  I  shall 
arrange  it  all  as  well  as  I  can  ;  but  you  must  be 
maitre  de  plaisir.  We  must  certainly  amuse  her 
with  a  hunt  after  breakfast.  .  .  .” 

Madame  Junot  had  settled  down  at  her  desk 
while  she  spoke.  She  tried  the  pen  upon  her 
thumb  nail,  to  see  if  it  were  cut  right,  and  took 
paper  from  the  portfolio.  When  she  was  glad 
and  happy  she  would  nearly  always  drive  his 
indisposition  away.  And  after  this  gay  rally 
Junot  lifted  his  head  and  smiled. 

“Of  course  she  must  hunt — a  Teutonic  Prin¬ 
cess  !  She  is  as  stiff  as  a  stick,  I  have  heard. 
You  must  chat  with  her,  Laurette  ;  I  shall  have 
to  be  excused.  I  am  not  much  acquainted  with 
Princesses  other  than  Spanish  and  Portuguese, 
and  deliver  me  from  them  !  ” 

“  Ail,  you  also  know  a  couple  of  French  ones 
— better,  I  mean.” 

Madame  Junot  turned  her  proud  little  head 


160 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


a  bit,  and  smiled  with  her  fine,  sarcastic,  self- 
confident  smile,  which  had  a  shade  of  superiority 
about  it. 

“I  wonder,  dear,  if  this  hunt  will  be  as  amus¬ 
ing  to  you  as  the  hunts  at  Rainey  used  to  be  !  ” 

But  when  she  saw  the  fiush  upon  his  forehead 
and  the  impetuous  manner  in  which  he  suddenly 
turned  his  head  away,  there  flitted  an  expres¬ 
sion  of  anxiety  and  deep  pity  over  her  face. 
She  arose  and  slowly  sought  his  side. 

Junot,  .  .  She  searched  for  words  that 
did  not  come,  but  she  remained  standing  at  his 
side  with  one  hand  on  the  chair  on  which  he  sat. 

Junot  was  deeply  touched  by  the  expression  in 
this  face  which  he,  in  spite  of  all,  loved  the 
most  in  all  the  world.  Easily  moved  as  he  was, 
he  drew  her  hand  to  him  and  murmured,  as  he 
bent  his  face  down  over  it: 

“Why  don’t  you  say  something,  Laurette,  be¬ 
cause  I  have  been  away  to-night?  Upbraid  me, 
be  angry  with  me,  as  you  used  to  be  till  ...” 

“What  can  I  upbraid  you  for?  She  is  like 
the  brother;  when  she  wished  to  rule,  then  ...” 

He  guessed  her  thoughts,  and,  bitterly  hurt  in 
his  manly  pride,  he  said : 

“I  understand  you!  In  this,  as  in  everything 


161 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

else,  you  see  in  me  only  a  desire  to  obey — a 
Bonaparte  !  ” 

She  gently  drew  her  hand  from  his,  and  leaned 
against  the  window-sill. 

“Do  you  imagine  that  any  woman  could  re¬ 
sist  Napoleon  when  he  loved,  or  thought  he 
loved  ?  ’  ’ 

Junot  smiled  a  little  doubtfully.  “I  have,  at 
least,  never  known  one.” 

His  wife  still  looked  steadily  at  him.  There 
was  in  her  clear,  beaming  glance,  and  in  her 
proud  smile,  something  which  made  him  anxious, 
and  which  at  the  same  time  astonished  him,  but 
which,  at  this  moment,  he  did  not  comprehend. 

She  moved  her  lips  as  though  to  speak  again, 
but  controlled  herself.  As  she  passed  him  in 
walking  toward  her  desk,  she  said,  plainly,  in  her 
usual  voice: 

“Yes;  there  you  see  ...” 

Junot  remained  sitting,  and  followed  her 
thoughtfully  with  his  eyes  while  she  finished  her 
letter,  with  her  back  turned  to  him. 

In  his  present  tired  and  embittered  soul  there 
awoke  a  suspicion  to  which  he  dared  not  listen. 
Had  Napoleon  tried  to  win  his  wife  ?  Had  she, 
for  her  husband’s  sake  and  out  of  love  for  him, 


162 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


enough  courage  and  power  to  resist  what  no  other 
woman  in  France  would  have  resisted  1  He  re¬ 
membered,  suddenly,  her  expression  when  she 
had  said  to  him  once,  in  a  tender  moment,  No 
woman  could  resist  Bonaparte  if  she  did  not  love 
another  man  with  all  her  soul.  ’  ’  He  had  laughed 
and  said  that  if  the  thought  of  the  Emperor 
haunted  all  the  women  of  France  to  the  same 
degree  as  it  did  her,  then  Napoleon’s  power  over 
the  men  would  soon  be  over.  In  answer  she 
had  smiled  without  offering  any  explanation. 

He  arose  and  walked  to  and  fro  with  quick, 
irregular  steps,  stopping  at  last  behind  her  chair, 
while  he  slowly  and  tenderly  passed  his  hand 
over  her  hair. 

Apparently  Laurette  did  not  feel  his  touch, 
for  she  bent  more  intently  over  her  letter;  but  at 
that  moment  they  were  both  thinking  the  same 
thoughts,  though  neither  was  willing  to  admit 
the  fact. 

Madame  Junot  drove  to  Eaiucy  that  night  in 
the  moonlight.  After  her  came  the  head  cook, 
Richard,  leading  a  whole  train  of  wagons  with 
provisions,  table-service,  and  toilet  articles.  In 
the  morning,  at  half-past  nine  at  the  latest,  the 


163 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

castle  should  be  in  perfect  order  to  receive  the 
Princess  of  Whrtemberg,  and  it  was  Madame 
Juuot’s  intention  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  make 
the  reception  as  brilliant  as  possible.  She  knew 
that  the  Emperor  would  inquire  about  every  de¬ 
tail,  and  she  wished  that  his  royal  sister-in-law 
shonld  get  a  favorable  and  lasting  impression  of 
French  taste  and  ceremony  as  soon  as  she  set 
foot  upon  Parisian  gronnd. 

The  Governor’s  wife  did  not  have  time  to  sleep 
many  hours  that  night.  Early  in  the  morning 
her  husband  came,  followed  by  an  Adjutant, 
to  be  present  at  the  arrival  of  the  Princess. 
Madame  Junot,  already  awake,  was  sitting  in 
bed  drinking  her  chocolate  when  Junot  entered, 
still  in  his  riding-costume. 

“Let  me  see  if  you  have  dark  rings  under 
your  eyes.  Princess  Gracieuse !  ’  ’  he  said,  gaily, 
as  he  sat  down  upon  the  edge  of  the  bed.  “You 
must  not,  of  all  things,  look  too  tired;  that 
would  also  be  reported  to  his  Majesty  !  ” 

“  Ah,  you  need  not  fear,”  she  laughed.  “He 
has  not  as  yet  forbidden  us  to  paint,  thank 
goodness !  ” 

Junot  laughed  hilariously.  “The  poor  Jo¬ 
sephine — if  that  were  the  case  !  ” 


161 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


He  started  to  go,  but  turned  at  the  door. 
^^Tell  me — are  you  quite  sure  what  kind  of 
dress  .  .  .  V’ 

Laurette  already  had  one  foot  out  of  bed.  She 
made  an  impatient  movement  of  the  hand. 

“Just  be  quiet,  my  dear  !  As  I  was  able  to 
accustom  myself  to  wearing  hoop-skirts  in  Lis¬ 
bon  without  falling  upon  my  nose,  neither  you 
nor  the  Emperor  need  trouble  yourself  about  my 
attire.  I  have  heard  that  in  Germany  grand 
toilette  is  required  for  an  occasion  like  this;  but 
here  ...  You  know  that  it  is  only  at  the 
Tuileries  that  we  wear  mantle  and  cherusque.  I 
know  the  Emperor — he  wishes  that  the  Princess 
shall  understand  from  the  first  moment  that  the 
French  court  is  something  exceptional,  some¬ 
thing  superior  .  .  .  and  still  just  like  the  rest !  ” 
She  laughed. 

Madame  Junot  had  not  for  a  long  time  felt  in 
such  good  a  humor  as  to-day.  She  felt  that  it 
was  a  favor  Napoleon  had  shown  them  when  he 
entrusted  his  royal  sister-in-law  to  her  and  her 
husband,  and  she  was  keenly  alive  to  the  honor 
he  had  done  them  and  the  opportunity  the  occa¬ 
sion  afforded  them. 

While  her  maids  dressed  her  in  her  dainty 


165 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

dem  i  toilette  of  white  silk  moire  and  a  toque  with 
white  ostrich  plumes,  she  was  wondering  what 
the  demeanor  of  the  Princess  would  be.  Lau- 
rette,  for  her  part,  was  not  especially  interested 
in  the  Princess,  for,  likeeA^ery  one  in  Napoleon’s 
old  circle,  she  was  disturbed  by  the  Emperor’s 
decided  inclination  to  make  family  connections 
with  the  old  courts;  and,  besides,  she  was  vexed, 
as  a  woman  and  a  Catholic,  at  the  despotic  man¬ 
ner  in  which  he  had  caused  Jerome  to  dissolve 
his  first  marriage,  and  to  treat  his  young  wife 
and  child.  She  remembered  the  spring  morning 
two  years  before,  when  she  and  Junot  had  unex¬ 
pectedly  met  young  Jerome  Bonaparte  in  a  de¬ 
serted  posada  near  Merida.  She  thought  of  their 
breakfast  in  the  sunny  garden,  where  Jerome,  in 
his  despair  and  sorrow,  could  speak  of  nothing 
but  his  separation  from  his  “Eliza,”  who,  by 
the  Emperor’s  order,  and  in  spite  of  her  pitiful 
condition,  was  not  permitted  to  land  at  any  har¬ 
bor  of  France,  Holland,  Spain,  Portugal,  or 
Italy. 

At  that  time  Eliza  was  on  her  way  to  England, 
while  he,  going  to  his  brother,  implored  him  for 
pity  on  his  young  wife  and  unborn  child.  Ah, 
yes  ! — poor  little  Jerome.  He  had,  perhaps,  not 


166 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


been  able  to  resist  the  temptation  of  being  called 
imperial  or  royal  highness,  with  a  view  to  a 
crown  and  the  hand  of  a  princess  .  .  .  Madame 
Junot  smiled  a  little  maliciously,  while  she 
buttoned  her  long,  white  gloves,  at  the  thought 
of  the  love-meeting  she  should  soon  witness 
between  the  i^laymate  of  her  childhood  and 
his  royal  bride.  “1  wonder  if  he  remembers 
the  posada  on  Estremadura’ s  perfumed  flower 
field!” 

Princess  Catherine  of  Wiirtemberg  was  at  this 
time  about  twenty -five  years  of  age.  She  had 
parted  with  her  German  attendants  a  few  days 
before,  and  now  felt  very  strange  among  all  these 
unknown  French  people  who  surrounded  her. 
She  was  small  of  stature,  stout,  and  cpxite  awk¬ 
ward  ;  but  she  had  a  ixretty,  open,  bright  face, 
which,  on  account  of  the  intense  August  heat 
and  her  painful  position,  was  extremely  red 
under  the  high  and  somewhat  old-fashioned 
coift’ure. 

Madame  Junot  approached  the  Princess  rather 
formally,  for,  Parisian  as  she  was  to  her  finger¬ 
tips,  she  surveyed  her  royal  guest  critically. 
Her  costume — Madame  Junot  saw  that  at  once 
— was  much  too  antediluvian  even  for  a  German 

167 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Princess  !  Who  would  have  the  front  of  a  dress 
draped  with  a  “  Mathilde^^  nowadays?  Who 
would  wear  such  tight,  smooth  sleeves?  They 
reminded  one  of  the  Marie  Antoinette  fashion. 
And  such  a  train  !  In  Paris  the  Princess  from 
Stuttgart  would  look  like  a  lady  from  the 
provinces. 

The  demeanor  of  the  Princess,  though  forced 
and  often  painfully  uncertain,  was  proud  and 
dignified.  She  was  exceedingly  gracious  toward 
her  hostess  and  the  young  matrons  whom  the 
Emperor  had  selected  for  her  court  ladies.  Her 
color  changed  every  moment;  and  though  she 
tried  hard  to  control  herself,  it  was  visible  to 
all  that  she  was  in  an  embarrassing  position 
among  so  many  strange  persons;  and  she  had  a 
dreadful  anticipation  of  being  soon  taken  by  her 
bridegroom  (who,  according  to  her  standards, 
was  already  married),  and  of  being  introduced  to 
the  Bonaparte  family. 

^‘Well,  Madame  la  Gouveniante,  what  do  you 
say  to  my  little  sovereign  ?  ’  ’  whispered  Marshal 
Bessieres,  who  was  acting  for  Prince  Jerome  in 
meeting  the  Princess.  And  he  looked  smilingly 
through  his  cross-eyes  at  her  Highness,  who, 
with  stiff  grace,  was  receiving  the  compliments 


168 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


of  the  persons  whom  her  lady  in  attendance, 
Madame  de  Lugay,  presented. 

The  Governor’s  wife  turned  slowly  around  and 
looked  up  into  Bessieres’  face.  She  bit  her  lip 
and  shrugged  her  shoulders  slightly,  while  she 
answered  : 

^‘She  does  not  scare  me,  dear  Marshal,  espe¬ 
cially  in  that  costume !  Could  you  really  not  have 
given  her  a  hint  as  to  the  fashion  in  Paris  I  Of 
course,  it  had  to  be  so;  but  don’t  you  think  the 
artist  could  have  made  that  a  little  smaller  ?  ” 
she  said,  with  an  ironical  glance  at  the  enormous 
miniature  portrait  of  Prince  Jerome  which,  in  a 
setting  of  diamonds,  hung  from  the  Princess’ 
necklace  and  dangled  to  and  fro  on  her  bosom  at 
the  least  movement.  “It  is  a  pity  that  she  is 
obliged  to  show  herself  before  them  all  in  this 
manner.” 

“A  hint?  Dear  Madame  Junot !  And  you 
have  a  little  experience  yourself  in  regard  to 
royal  highnesses.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  to 
let  the  Princess  of  Brazil  know  that  she  looked 
like.  .  .  ?  Well,  I  don’t  understand  much 
about  ladies’  costumes,  but  Jerome  does,  unfor¬ 
tunately.  This  much  I  do  know  :  you  cannot 
joke  with  her  Highness.” 


169 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“Indeed!”  Madame  Junot  was  now  very 
much  interested. 

“Yes,  just  imagine.  .  .  .  When  we  went 
through  that  barbaric  wedding  ceremony,  you 
know — well,  I  thought  that  the  occasion  re¬ 
quired  that  I,  as  representative  of  the  groom, 
should  say  something — something  funny,  to  show 
we  were  not  at  all  duped  by  the  queer  old 
ceremony.  I  wished  her  to  see  that  we,  as 
sensible  and  modern  people  should,  took  it  all  at 
what  it  was  worth — a  tradition,  and  a  custom 
which  we  were  forced  to  follow.  But  she  .  .  . 
del !  ’  ’ 

‘ '  What  did  she  say  ?  ’  ’ 

“She  gave  me  a  rebuff  so  sharp  and  unex¬ 
pected  that  I  don’t  yet  know  what  she  meant. 
And  what  I  said,  I  assure  you,  was  really  most 
innocent.” 

“Oh,  but  you  are  too  hard  upon  her,  good 
friend,”  said  Madame  Junot,  suddenly  springing 
to  her  defense.  “She  is  naturally  very  irritable 
under  the  present  circumstances,  and  must  con¬ 
stantly  be  on  her  guard.  She  is,  indeed,  in  a 
trying  situation.  But  she  can  be  agreeable  if  she 
wishes.  See  how  she  smiles  at  her  father’s  min¬ 
ister,  Herr  von  Wintzingrode  !  ” 


170 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Bessieres  shook  his  head. 

“Yes,  poor  child!  Will  it  uot  be  amusing  to 
hear  what  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg — and 
especially  the  Princess  Stephanie — will  have  to 
say  about  her  ?  ’  ’ 

“You  will  be  sure  to  hear -that,  if  it  is  really 
so  important  to  you,”  answered  the  Governor’s 
wife,  a  little  dryly. 

The  Princess  expressed  a  wish  to  dine  with 
the  other  ladies,  and  she  accordingly  joined  them 
in  the  beautiful  library,  where  an  elobarate  re¬ 
past  was  served.  As  the  Princess  was  expect¬ 
ing  the  arrival  of  Prince  Jerome  soon  after  din¬ 
ner,  she  begged  Madame  Junot,  if  it  were  possi¬ 
ble,  to  let  her  know  a  little  beforehand  of  the  ar¬ 
rival  of  his  Highness.  An  Adjutant,  armed 
with  a  field-glass,  was  therefore  stationed  at  the 
gate  to  watch  the  long  avenue  of  poplars,  ready 
to  report  the  first  glimpse  of  the  Prince  and  his 
suite. 

As  the  time  drew  near  seven  o’clock,  Princess 
Catherine’s  nervousness  and  anxiety  became  more 
noticeable.  When  Madame  Junot  saw  how  un¬ 
happy  she  was,  she  forgot  her  prejudice  against 
her,  and  hurried  to  ask  whether  the  Adjutant 


171 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

had  not  as  yet  announced  anything.  But  when 
she  opened  the  door  into  the  large  dining-room, 
where  Junot  presided  at  the  gentlemen’s  dinner, 
she  was  met  with  such  peals  of  laughter  that  she 
lost  the  heart  to  put  her  question.  It  was  ap¬ 
parent  that  Junot,  Bessieres,  and  the  rest  who 
were  interested  in  neither  Jerome’s  first  nor 
second  wife,  considered  the  visit  of  the  Princess 
to  Eaincy  only  as  a  capital  occasion  to  feast  and 
to  renew  old  acquaintance  and  mutual  memories 
of  the  campaign. 

So,  turning  from  the  revel,  she  quickly  threw 
a  shawl  over  her  shoulders  and  walked  across  the 
lawn  to  the  Eussian  Pavilon,  where  the  poor 
exiled  Adjutant,  M.  de  Grandsaigne,  was  dining 
all  alone,  his  field-glass  on  the  table  before  him. 

'^Sister  Anna,  sister  Anna,  seest  thou  any  one 
coming  ?  ’  ’  she  called,  gayly,  as  she  put  her  hands 
up  to  her  mouth  as  a  trumpet. 

“I  see,  oh,  mistress,  but  the  grass  which  is 
a-greening  and  the  sun  which  is  a-shining !  ” 
laughingly  answered  the  young  aristocrat,  de¬ 
lighted  at  the  prospect  of  company. 

Madame  Junot  stood  for  a  moment  holding  the 
door-posts  of  the  pavilion,  while  she  swayed 
lightly  to  and  fro  on  her  heels.  She  laughed. 


172 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


though  with  a  bad  conscience  for  joking  over 
such  a  serious  matter,  while  the  poor  Princess 
sat  in  agony  within.  Then  shading  her  eyes  with 
her  hand,  she  gazed  down  the  avenue. 

‘‘You  see  but  poorly,  sister  Anna!  There  is 
the  dust-cloud,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  Sir  Blue¬ 
beard  himself.” 

Monsieur  de  Grandsaigne,  looking  at  her  with 
big  eyes,  burst  into  a  jolly  laugh,  in  which  she 
joined  him  when  she  caught  the  full  force  of  her 
own  joke. 

“Hasten  to  my  husband.  Monsieur  de  Grand- 
saigne,  and  tell  him  that  the  Prince  will  be  here 
in  a  minute.  I  shall  go  to  her  Highness.” 

The  gentlemen  hurriedly  left  the  table  and 
gathered,  with  the  ladies,  in  the  billiard- room, 
while  Junot  hastened  to  receive  the  Prince  and 
his  suite. 

The  Princess,  alone  in  the  large  center  salon, 
suddenly  became  calm  as  she  stood  there  in  her 
studied  position,  at  the  side  of  the  chair  reserved 
for  the  Prince.  All  could  easily  watch  her 
movements,  for  the  two  salons  were  divided  only 
by  a  row  of  pillars. 

Jerome  Bonaparte  was  dressed  in  the  custom¬ 
ary  salon  costume  worn  by  French  princes : 


173 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

white  cashmere  knee-breeches,  and  silk  dress 
coat  a  la  frangaise,  with  the  large  decoration  of 
the  Legion  of  Honor  over  his  breast.  Thus  at¬ 
tired,  he  entered  alone  from  the  music -room, 
where  his  suite  remained,  and  quickly  walked 
toward  the  Princess,  who  took  a  few  steps  to 
meet  him. 

They  greeted  each  other  in  a  few  words  which, 
however,  were  spoken  in  too  low  a  tone  for  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  in  the  billiard -room  to  hear 
them. 

The  Prince  then  sat  for  a  moment  in  the  chair 
beside  his  bride,  as  had  been  previously  ar¬ 
ranged.  He  asked  her  a  few  questions  in  regard 
to  her  journey,  and  after  that  arose. 

“My  brother  awaits  us,”  he  said,  loudly,  so 
that  all  could  hear  it.  “He  is  impatient  to 
greet  his  new  sister,  whom  he  already  prizes 
highly.” 

Princess  Catherine  smiled — it  was  always  the 
same  forced  and  dignified  smile — and  lightly 
followed  her  husband  to  the  entrance  of  the 
music-room.  But  scarcely  had  she  passed  the 
door  when  she  changed  color,  swayed,  and, 
with  a  painful  sigh,  raised  her  hand  to  her 
heart. 

174 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“She  is  fainting!”  exclaimed  Madame  de 
Lugay.  “  Get  water  and  eau  de  Cologne  !  ” 

The  indisposition  did  not  last  long,  for  the 
young  Princess  almost  immediately  opened  her 
eyes  again. 

“  Oh,  I  am  so  tired  !  ”  she  said,  in  a  natural, 
complaining  voice — “so  tired  after  the  jour¬ 
ney,”  she  added. 

“  Your  Highness  ”  (Bessieres  approached  her, 
bowing  with  hat  in  hand),  “the  carriages  are 
waiting;  but  if  your  Highness  wishes  to  post¬ 
pone  the  journey  .  .  .” 

“No,  no!”  She  arose,  hurriedly;  she  was 
anxious  to  put  an  end  to  her  martyrdom. 

“Madame  Junot” — she  turned  to  her  hostess 
with  the  forced,  stereotyped  smile  which  was  so 
very  unbecoming  to  her  pretty,  honest  face — “I 
assure  you  I  shall  never  forget  Rainey  and  your 
hospitality.  It  will  always  remind  me  of  some 
of  the  most  agreeable  moments  of  my  life.” 

Madame  Junot  made  a  courtesy  and  kissed 
the  Princess’  hand.  This  time  her  deep  obei¬ 
sance  was  sincere.  She  comprehended,  at  that 
moment,  the  bitter,  cruel  humilities  which  this 
stranger,  daughter  of  a  strange  king,  had  suf¬ 
fered  during  these  few  hours  here  in  her  home. 


175 


XIV 


Ma  sant6  n’a  jamais  6t6  si  bonne  — 
tenement  que  je  suis  devenu  plus  galant 
que  par  le  passfi. 

NAPOLfiON. 

(Lettre  an  roi  Joseph  1807.) 


HE  Empeeor  of  late  had  shown  the 
Governor’s  wife  marked  attention ;  it 
looked  as  though  he  wished  to  deny 
all  rumors  of  Juuot’s  disgrace.  His  long  talk 
with  her  at  the  festival  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville  had 
been  noticed  and  commented  upon,  and  every¬ 
body  was  talking  about  the  very  great  favor 
which  had  been  shown  them  when  she  and  her 
husband  had  been  selected  to  receive  the  new 
Queen  of  Westphalia.  Napoleon  had,  besides — 
some  said  as  thanks  for  her  hospitality  at  Eaincy 
— recently  sent  Madame  Junot  magnificent  bou¬ 
quets  and  rare  plants  from  the  imperial  hot¬ 
houses.  And  now,  at  the  last  grand  ball  Avhich 
the  Grand  Duchess  gave  at  ^llys6e  in  honor  of 
King  Jerome’s  wedding,  he  had  again  been  ex¬ 
ceptionally  courteous  and  had  held  a  long  con- 


176 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


versation  with  her.  The  other  ladies  of  the 
court — most  of  whom  were  awed  and  scared  by 
the  Emperor  to  such  a  degree  that  they  were 
at  their  wits’  ends  when  they  were  obliged  to 
answer  his  abrupt  questions — commenced  to 
show  themselves  very  envious  of  Madame  Junot. 
She  could  joke  and  laugh  and  be  perfectly  nat¬ 
ural  with  her  quick  repartee,  and  she  often  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  awakening  upon  the  Emperor’s  lips 
that  pretty,  bright  smile  which  was  so  tempt¬ 
ingly  tender. 

Madame  Junot,  for  her  part,  did  not  avoid 
the  Emperor,  nor  did  she  make  any  special  effort 
to  attract  his  attention.  She  had,  as  well  as  he, 
V  esprit  deprmcipaute  in  a  high  degree.  It  amused 
her  to  be,  and  to  be  considered  to  be,  the  first 
lady  in  a  salon,  and  she  never  avoided  a  success. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  she  was  not  anxious  to 
become  the  target  for  the  court  gossip  which  she 
felt  had  already  begun  to  occupy  itself  a  great 
deal  with  her.  The  Emperor  approached  her 
this  evening  at  the  Grand  Duchess’  ball,  after  he 
had  been  a  silent  observer  of  the  first  dance  from 
his  throne,  and  she  noticed  the  hurried,  mali¬ 
cious  discretion  with  which  those  near  them 
withdrew  from  hearing  to  give  them  an  oppor- 


177 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

tunity  for  a  tSte-h-Ute.  She  felt,  in  spite  of  be¬ 
ing  used  to  the  stage  of  society,  that  her  blush 
suffused  her  neck  as  well  as  her  cheeks. 

This  unfortunate  blush  capped  the  climax;  it 
was  commented  upon  even  more  than  the  conver¬ 
sation  itself,  which  lasted  but  a  few  moments. 
The  Governor’s  wife  blushed  !  She,  who  was 
usually  impertinently  self-possessed  !  Perhaps 
out  of  malice.  Princess  Pauline,  who  was  not  a 
specially  clever  observer,  called  her  sister  Caro¬ 
line’s  attention,  pointing  with  her  fan  toward 
the  other  end  of  the  hall  where  Madame  Junot, 
with  downcast  eyes,  was  just  then  making  a 
deep  obeisance  before  his  Majesty.  She  noted, 
too,  how  graciously  he  patted  her  blushing 
cheek  when  they  parted. 

“Bonaparte  begins  to  pay  attention  to  the 
ladies — at  least,  to  one  of  them  !  Perhaps  he 
thinks  that  Junot  is  too  much  engrossed  else¬ 
where  to  notice  it.” 

The  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  betrayed  no  in¬ 
terest  in  the  episode,  nor  did  she  intend  to  let 
Pauline  suspect  her  game,  as  she  answered, 
dryly  : 

“Laurette  has  always  had  great  opportunities 
with  the  Emperor — she  looks  so  much  like  Sig- 


178 


The  Governor's  Wife 


nora  Panoria!  If  she  were  not  so  stubborn,  she 
could  have  made  her  fortune  long  ago.  And 
now  she  is  more  beantifnl  than  ever  .  . 

Then  she  stopped,  gazed  in  front  of  her  a  lit¬ 
tle  absent-mindedly,  and  smiled  faintly. 

‘^It  is  a  great  temptation,  though,”  she 
sighed,  with  a  moral,  sentimental  shake  of  the 
head.  “Who  knows  whether  she  can  resist  it? 
Poor  Junot !  ” 

“Yes,  poor  Junot!”  sighed  Pauline,  pity¬ 
ingly.  “  But  he  has  his  opportunities,  too.” 

After  this  soliloquy  Princess  Caroline  rose  to 
go;  but  she  stood  for  a  moment  on  the  steps 
that  led  from  the  platform  on  which  the  two 
ladies  sat.  She  lifted  the  train  of  her  dress  with 
regal  dignity,  and  with  a  gracious  movement 
turned  her  beautiful  head  toward  her  sister. 

“So  you  still  remember  that  old  love  story? 
Dear  Pauline,  you  are  really  more  faithful  than 
I  shonld  have  thought  you  !  ’  ’  And  then  she 
softly  added  a  sisterly  warning:  “But  you 
should  not  speak  too  loudly  about  your  weak¬ 
ness  for  him.” 

Princess  Borghese  was  so  indignant  at  this 
that  she  conld  not,  for  a  moment,  find  words  to 
answer. 


179 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

The  Grand  Duchess,  with  proud  bearing, 
stepped  down  the  purple-covered  steps. 

The  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Oleve  regu¬ 
larly  received  her  most  intimate  friends  every 
forenoon  in  her  so-called  “little”  salon.  It 
was  a  large,  gorgeous  room,  which  Percier  and 
Fontaine  had  lately  redecorated  with  blue  silk 
coverings  for  the  walls  and  with  gilded  lambre¬ 
quins.  The  furniture,  all  new  and  in  the  splen¬ 
did  style  of  the  Empire,  was  also  richly  gilded 
and  covered  with  blue  brocaded  silk.  The 
curtains  at  the  large  windows  were  also  of  blue 
brocade,  embroidered  with  golden  bees  and 
branches  of  laurel. 

After  the  return  from  Tilsit^  and  ever  since 
Talleyrand  was  elected  Vice-Grand  Electeur, 
and,  as  such,  was  one  of  the  great  dignitaries  of 
the  country,  both  Murat  and  his  wife  had  plainly 
made  great  efforts  to  gain  his  friendship  and  in¬ 
timate  acquaintance.  The  Prince  of  B6nevent, 
as  Talleyrand  was  known,  was  always  affable  ; 
but  he  preserved,  even  in  his  relation  to  the 
Emperor’s  own  family,  his  usual  smooth,  im¬ 
penetrable  manner,  which  often  appeared  a  lit¬ 
tle  careless.  He  had  always  treated  Murat  in- 


180 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


dilferently — in  accordance  with  the  manner  with 
which  Napoleon  himself  treated  him.  It  would 
also  be  wrong  to  say  that  Murat  felt  himself 
especially  attracted  to  Talleyrand;  but  his  wife, 
the  Princess,  by  whom  he  was  entirely  guided, 
in  spite  of  his  frequent  brutality  toward  her, 
never  tired  of  explaining  to  him  how  important 
it  was  for  their  plans  to  have  Talleyrand  on  their 
side.  He  was  the  only  one,  as  far  as  foreign 
politics  was  concerned,  who  had  any  influence  at 
all  with  Napoleon. 

On  the  other  hand,  Caroline  always  won  from 
Talleyrand  not  only  the  homage  due  her  as 
sister  of  the  Emperor,  but  also  his  sincere  ad¬ 
miration  for  her  as  a  very  beautiful  woman. 
They  agreed  well  whenever  they  met,  and 
they  found  a  deal  of  amusement  in  bargaining 
with  each  other  for  the  crowns  of  Europe. 
Each  understood  the  other  thoroughly,  and  each 
played  the  game  with  great  gusto — as  a  joke, 
of  course. 

On  the  morning  following  the  ball,  his  High¬ 
ness,  the  Prince  of  Benevent,  was  ealling  upon 
her  Highness,  the  Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve. 
The  clear,  sharp  light  of  the  September  day, 
reflected  in  bluish  tints  from  the  hangings  and 


181 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

furniture,  could  not  dim  the  incomparable 
freshness  of  the  Princess,  who  was  arrayed  in 
an  Oriental  costume  and  a  loose  jacket  of  rose- 
colored  velvet;  in  fact,  she  looked  quite  as 
charming  as  she  did  the  evening  before  at  the 
ball.  She  sat  now  with  both  elbows  resting 
upon  the  little  bronze-trimmed  table,  which 
stood  beside  her  lounge,  and  played  carelessly 
with  her  rings. 

“The  Grand  Duke  complains  about  your 
Highness,”  she  said,  smilingly,  as  she  looked 
up  at  Talleyrand.  “He  insists.  .  .” 

“That  Monsieur  de  Talleyrand  ‘ne  veut  pas 
queje  sois  roue!  ’  ”  interrupted  Talleyrand,  with 
a  jolly  imitation  of  Murat’s  voice  and  his  south¬ 
ern  accent. 

The  Princess  involuntarily  drew  her  rounded 
chin  in  a  little.  But  she  did  not  think  it  ad¬ 
visable  to  show  that  she  thought  he  had  gone 
to©  far,  s©  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  with  a 
smile. 

“Yes,  dear  Prince,  he  says  so,  and  it  seems 
that  he  is  not  so  very  much  mistaken.  .  .  .  But 
you,  who  have  influence  with  his  Majesty  .  .  . 
why  do  you  oppose  our  wishes,  which  are  only  in 
accordance  with  those  of  the  people  of  Poland  ?  ’  ’ 
182 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘Your  Imperial  Highness,  it  is  a  little  diffi¬ 
cult  to  speak  about  these  things — sincerely — 
without,  at  the  same  time,  hurting  your  tender- 
est  and  holiest  feelings.  ’  ’  He  was  silent. 

“Ah,”  said  the  Princess,  dryly,  “when  one 
speaks  to  me  about  business,  I  always  make  my 
feelings,  even  the  holy  ones,  secondary.  It  is 
my  duty,  as  Duchess.  You  were  going  to 
say!  .  .  .” 

“I  would  but  say” — Talleyrand  slowly 
opened  the  cameo  lid  of  his  magnificent  snuff¬ 
box,  and  held  the  pinch  between  his  fingers 
for  a  long  time — “I  would  but  say  that  there 
are,  unfortunatelj^,  persons  who  think  that  your 
superior  consort,  who  is  so  incomparable  when 
it  comes  to  bravery,  is  not  among  those  who 
are  most  capable  of  ruling  the  affairs  of  the 
country.” 

Caroline  had  expected  this  objection.  She 
was  thankful  that  he  had  spoken  so  openly,  and 
she  leaned  gracefully  over  the  little  table  as  she 
looked  at  Tallyrand  with  a  long,  questioning 
glance. 

“  But  there  are  others  who  do  understand  it. 
You  know  that  my  husband  is  always  open  to 
well-meant  advice  which  I,  from  time  to  time. 


183 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

am  able  to  give  him.  And  I,  for  my  part,  do 
appreciate  the  friendship  of  which  one  of  the 
most  superior  and  highly  trusted  men  of  the 
country  pleases  to  consider  me  worthy.  ...” 

The  Princess  made  a  pause,  letting  her  eyes 
rest  on  Talleyrand’s.  Then  she  smiled,  and,  ex¬ 
tending  her  hand  to  him  over  the  table,  said: 

Monsieur  de  Talleyrand,  I  am  sincerely 
thankful  for  your  confidence  in  me  !  ’  ’ 

Talleyrand  bent  low  over  the  charming  little 
hand,  which  he  kissed. 

At  this  moment  the  chamberlain  introduced 
anew  guest:  ^^His  Majesty,  the  Austrian  Em¬ 
peror’s  new  Ambassador,  Herr  von  Metternich!” 

The  elegant  young  aristocrat  stepped  in  with 
graceful  dignity.  As  he  approached  the  Prin¬ 
cess,  who  had  risen,  he  made,  with  natural 
ease,  all  the  ballet-like  courtesies  dictated  by 
the  French  etiquette.  Caroline  smiled  gra¬ 
ciously  as  she  extended  her  hand  and  pointed 
to  a  seat. 

Talleyrand  remained  but  a  few  moments.  As 
he  went  out,  he  met  General  Junot  at  the  door. 

‘^My  dear  Governor  of  Paris,”  the  Princess 
exclaimed,  as  she  showed  him  a  seat  a  little 
farther  away  than  Metternich’ s  and  spoke  with- 


184 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


out  looking  at  him,  busying  herself  with  a  bot¬ 
tle  of  perfume  which  stood  on  the  table  before 
her,  ‘^it  is  a  rare  honor  to  see  you  !  To  what 
am  I  to-day  indebted  for  the  pleasure  of  your 
visit  ?  ’  ’ 

‘  ‘  I  came  to  make  your  Imperial  Highness  my 
parting  visit — here,  at  illysee.  In  a  few  days — 
as  soon  as  I  have  escorted  their  Majesties  to 
Fontainebleau — the  Emperor  wishes  me  to  de¬ 
part  for  my  post  in  the  army.” 

“So  sooiil ”  Caroline  stared  at  him  with  her 
large,  dark  eyes.  “I  thought  that  we  should  at 
least  have  the  pleasure  of  your  company  during 
the  hunting  season.  It  must  have  been  quite 
suddenly  that  my  brother  came  to  this  decision. 
Perhaps,  after  the  ball,  last  night  .  .  .”  She 
stopped,  bit  her  lip,  and  glanced  involuntarily 
at  Metternich,  as  though  she  were  afraid  that 
she  had  said  too  much. 

“I  do  not  know  when  his  Majesty  made  this 
decision,  but  I  have  long  been  prepared  for  this 
departure.”  It  wus  apparent  that  Junot  did 
not  fully  understand  the  Princess’  words.  He 
glanced  at  the  Austrian,  to  see  if  it  were  not  his 
intention  to  depai  t. 

iMetternich,  well  acquainted  with  the  gossip 


185 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

of  the  court,  made  a  gesture  as  though  to  rise; 
but  the  Princess  held  him  back  with  a  glance 
which  could  not  be  misunderstood  as  she,  at 
the  same  time,  turned  again  to  the  Governor  of 
Paris. 

“It  looks  almost  as  though  he  wishes  to  get 
rid  of  you,”  she  said,  laughing  mischievously. 
“Apropos,  may  I  be  allowed  to  compliment 
you  ?  Madame  Junot  was  bewitching  at  my 
ball  last  night.  She  was  very  generally  ad¬ 
mired.  ’  ’ 

Junot  knew  the  Duchess  of  Berg  so  well  that 
he  instantly  divined  what  she  meant;  she  was 
trying  to  divert  his  attention  from  herself  by 
making  him  jealous  of  the  Emperor’s  attentions 
to  Laurette.  At  the  same  time  she  insinuated 
to  this  strange  diplomat,  whom  she  plainly  enough 
was  trying  to  win,  a  different  reason  for  this  de¬ 
parture  to  Bayonne  from  the  one  which,  accord¬ 
ing  to  gossip,  was  supposed  to  be  the  most  de¬ 
cisive:  a  momentary  exile,  as  punishment  for  a 
too  great  intimacy  with  a  certain  Imperial 
Princess.  Junot’ s  face  reddened  deeply  with 
anger,  and  he  could  not  speak. 

The  Princess  was  cruelly  courageous,  for  she 
knew,  to  a  dot,  what  she  wanted  and  what  she 


186 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


was  doing.  But  for  once  she  was  scared,  know¬ 
ing,  as  she  did,  Junot’s  wild  impetuosity,  and 
perceiving  from  the  expression  of  his  face  how 
deeply  he  felt  her  thrust.  She  closed  her  eyes 
for  a  second,  anxious  for  his  next  word,  at  the 
same  time  crushing  the  little  smelling-salt  box 
which  hung  at  her  belt. 

Metternich  stroked  one  of  his  fingers  over  the 
gold  band  on  his  three-cornered  hat  as  he  said 
slowly,  with  a  slight  bow  toward  Junot: 

“My  dear  General,  may  I  be  permitted  to 
be  of  the  same  opinion  ?  With  the  exception  of 
our  gracious  hostess,  Madame  Junot  was,  with¬ 
out  doubt,  the  lady  who  was  most  admired  at 
the  ball  last  night.” 

This  compliment,  spoken  by  Metternich  in  an 
indifferent  tone  of  voice,  stopped  the  passionate 
answer  which  already  trembled  upon  Junot’s  lips, 
and  gave  him  that  cooling  douche  of  calmness 
which  leaves  reason  uppermost  and  in  control. 
He  received  the  compliment  in  silence,  but  with 
a  polite  bow. 

The  Princess  now  wished  that  Metternich, 
whom  she  had  detained  with  all  her  power, 
should  go.  When  she  realized  the  impression 
her  behavior  had  made  upon  Junot,  the  woman 

187 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

in  lier  awoke;  she  had  been  his  mistress,  she 
had  loved  him — yes,  it  seemed  to  her  at  this 
moment  as  though  she  loved  him  still !  When 
she  saw  him,  so  proud,  so  self-controlled  and 
manly,  she  could  not  bear  the  thought  that  they 
shoirld  part  in  this  manner. 

Junot  leaned  back  in  his  chair  in  a  non¬ 
chalant  manner,  his  head  held  proudly  and  out¬ 
lined  superbly  against  his  loosely  hanging  dol¬ 
man.  To  the  Princess,  covertly  watching  him, 
the  white  scar  on  his  temple  became  more 
marked — the  scar  of  which  he  was  so  proud. 
In  her  innermost  soul  she  already  suspected  the 
contempt  and  coldness  which  now  was  following 
his  anger  against  her,  and.  Imperial  and  Eoyal 
Princess  though  she  was,  she  would  have  thrown 
herself  on  her  knees  before  her  lover  had  not 
Herr  von  Metternich  been  present.  She  longed 
for  his  angry  and  upbraiding  words,  and  once 
more  for  the  mastery  he  had  exercised. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  Princess  Caroline 
breathed  heavily  and  with  difficulty;  that  she 
pressed  her  hand  against  her  heart,  while  the 
flush  on  her  cheeks  slowly  increased  and  spread. 
For  some  moments  no  one  spoke.  The  Gov¬ 
ernor  arose  to  go. 

188 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“  Your  Imperial  Highness  !  ’  ’  He  bowed  with 
correct  respectfulness  before  the  Princess. 

Caroline  arose. 

“Dear  Junot,”  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  “I 
am  sorry  that  you  must  depart  so  soon.  ...” 
She  searched  for  words  while  she  graciously  fol¬ 
lowed  him  a  few  steps.  “We  shall  meet  again 
— if  not  before,  then  at  Fontaineblau — shall  we 
not?” 

Junot  made  another  bow,  in  answer  to  the 
glance  which  the  Princess,  unnoticed  by  Metter- 
nich,  sent  him.  Then  he  left  her  presence,  and 
walked  rapidly  through  the  anteroom,  scarcely 
acknowledging  the  salutes  of  the  bowing  cava¬ 
liers. 

Princess  Caroline  talked  for  a  long  time  with 
Herr  von  Metternich,  while  the  cavaliers  in  the 
anteroom  drew  their  own  conclusions  from  the 
unusual  incidents  of  the  morning. 


189 


XV 


Ici  (a.  Paris)  seulement  de  tous  les 
lieux  de  la  terre  les  femmes  mSritent 
de  tenir  le  gouvernail  .  .  .  Une  femme 
a  besoin  de  six  mois  de  Paris  pour 
connatire  ce  qui  lui  est  du,  est  quel  est 
son  empire. 

Napol6on 

(Correspondance  de  I’Empereur). 

II  fallait  pour  lui  rfeister  qu’une 
femme  aimat  ailleurs,  car  il  n’est  pas 
de  raison,  il  n’est  pas  de  vertu  a, 
I’epreuve  d’une  semblable  seduction. 

Mme.  JuNOT 
(de  Napoleon). 


HERE  is  madame  ?  ’  ’  demanded  the  Gov¬ 
ernor  of  Paris,  as  he  opened  the  door 
to  his  wife’s  waiting-room. 

“  Madame,  monsignenr  ?  .  .  .  Madame  is  just 
receiving  his  Excellence,  the  Grand  Marshal,” 
replied  the  lackey,  rising  sleepily  from  his  din¬ 
ner  nap. 

That  is  good,”  said  the  Governor  of  Paris, 
moving  impatiently  and  quickly  through  the 
room  to  her  reception-room. 

In  the  chair  at  her  desk  sat  Laurette.  Her 
elbow  rested  against  the  golden  lyre  on  the 


190 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


back  of  the  chair,  and  her  face,  in  charming 
silhouette  against  the  strong  light  from  the 
window,  was  turned  with  interest  toward 
Duroc,  who  was  slowly  walking  up  and  down 
the  room,  when  her  husband  abruptly  stepped 
through  the  door,  dark  as  a  thunder-cloud. 
She  peeped  up  at  him  in  surprise.  But  with¬ 
out  speaking  Junot  flung  himself  upon  a 
chair  by  the  window,  nodding  indifferently  to 
Duroc. 

‘‘For  God’s  sake,  Junot,”  they  both  cried, 
“what  is  the  matter?  ” 

“Ah,  nothing!”  But  immediately  after  he 
exclaimed,  impetuously: 

“Duroc  may  just  as  well  hear  it.  Tell  me, 
Laurette,  what  in  the  world  is  it” — he  arose 
and  stepped  to  his  wife — “what  is  it  that 
people  are  saying  about  you  —  and  —  about 
him  1  ’  ’ 

They  both  knew  that  when  Junot  said  “him,” 
with  that  accentuation,  he  meant  Napoleon. 

‘  ‘  About  me  and  the  Emperor  ?  ’  ’  Laurette 
began  to  laugh.  “My  goodness!  Here  is 
Duroc,  and  he  was  just  telling  me  the  most 
touching  stories  about  Napoleon  and  a  certain 
Madame  Walewski.  And  in  the  Tuileries  they 


191 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


chatter  constantly  about  his  attentions  to 
Madame  Gazani !  Wliat  are  they  now  saying 
about  me  in  Paris?  .  .  .  Napoleon’s  empire  is 
Europe,  but  I  did  not  think  his  heart  was  so 
roomy.  ’  ’ 

Junot  was  silent;  but  he  noticed  the  glance 
which  his  wife  gave  Duroe,  and  he  felt  con¬ 
vinced,  at  that  same  moment,  that  they  had 
not  devoted  all  their  conversation  to  the  Polish 
Countess  whom  she  had  mentioned. 

Duroc  drew  near  Madame  Junot  and  smil¬ 
ingly  shook  his  finger  at  her.  ‘  ‘  But,  madame, 
I  thought  you  so  discreet  that  I  might  entrust 
to  you  the  state  secret  which  I  confided  to  you. 
But  quite  apart  from  the  fact  that  you  have 
lost  my  secret,  you  should  not  be  so  sure  that 
Madame  Walewski  does  not  interest  him  any 
longer.  She  was  in  high  favor  at  Warsaw  and 
Finkenstein,  but  .  .  .”  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  ‘^She  was  too  monotonous,  too 
meek — no  charm,  no  esprit!  She  did  not  un¬ 
derstand  how  to  amuse  him  sufficiently,  and 
she  bothered  him  with  politics.  Besides,  she 
was  not  a  Parisienue — only  a  Frenchwoman 
could  have  completely  enthralled  the  Em¬ 
peror.” 

192 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘And  now,  perhaps,  he  has  found  one  who 
can  enthral  him!”  interrupted  Junot,  iron¬ 
ically. 

Duroc  turned  toward  him.  “No,  my  friend, 
I  do  not  believe  that  possible  now.  Since  the 
Emperor  ceased  to  care  for  Josephine,  he  has 
loved  but  once.  That  was  during  the  Con¬ 
sulate.  Now — now  Napoleon  has  but  one  true 
love — France  !  ’  ’ 

“Yes,  that  all  sounds  very  pretty,”  said 
Junot,  dryly.  He  bent  forward  and  took  his 
wife  firmly  by  the  arm  as  he  forced  her  to  look 
up  at  him.  “Have  yoii  more  confidence  in 
Duroc  than  in  me,  Laurette?”  he  asked,  ten¬ 
derly  upbraiding  her. 

“Confidence?  I  have  nothing  to  confide  to 
any  one.  Dear  me,  I  suppose  it  will  end  by 
their  saying  that  Duroc  is  my  lover  !  ’  ’ 

“Madame”  (Duroc  laid  his  hand  on  his 
heart),  “I  have  never  dared  to  aim  so  high; 
but  may  I  now  hoi)e,  when  Junot  has  de¬ 
parted  ...” 

They  all  laughed.  Junot  placed  his  arm 
around  his  wife’s  waist,  and  extended  the  other 
hand  to  his  friend. 

“I  know  it  is  folly,”  he  said,  still  laughing. 


193 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

“  I  am  a  fool  to  take  it  so  to  heart;  but  people 
must  not  comment  upon  my  Laure!  Take  good 
care  of  her,  Duroc,  while  I  am  away.” 

“Yon  had  better  entrust  her  to  some  one 
else,”  laughed  Duroc.  “As  you  have  heard, 
I  am  not  to  be  trusted.  Apply  to  another  of 
madame’s  admirers — Murat,  for  example  !  ” 

The  Governor  reddened  to  the  roots  of  his 
hair.  Without  saying  a  word,  he  drew  his  arm 
away  from  his  wife’s  waist,  and  walked  slowly 
out  of  the  room. 

“Duroc,  how  could  you?”  Madame  Junot 
passed  him,  blamingly,  and  started  to  follow 
her  husband. 

“I  beg  of  you,  madame  ...  I  give  you  my 
word  of  honor  that  I  had  no  other  thought  with 
my  words!”  But  now,  in  his  anxiety,  he 
grasped  her  hand  and  held  her  almost  forcibly 
back,  while  he  lowered  his  voice.  “May  I 
give  you  some  good  advice?  Do  not  follow 
him;  let  him  alone.  A  wife  ought  not  to  see 
her  husband  blush.  ’  ’ 

Madame  Junot  smiled  ironically,  without 
answering.  Duroc  bent  down  with  respect  and 
kissed  the  strong  little  hand  which  tried  to  tear 
itself  away. 

194 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“And  now,”  he  said,  slowly,  as  he  carefully 
led  her  back  to  her  seat,  her  hand  still  in  his, 
“tell  me  what  you  were  going  to  say  when  your 
husband  came  in.  You  have  often  called  me 
your  brother — consider  me  as  such  now.” 

Duroc  looked  devotedly  at  her  and  inquired; 

“Pray,  how  is  it  that  you  have  never  before 
told  me  about  this  old  story  from  Mal- 
maison?  .  .  .” 

“Ah!”  (she  looked  down  as  she  sat,  and 
turned  the  rings  on  her  fingers)  “it  did  not 
amount  to  much,  and  then  came  the  stay  at  the 
camp  in  Boulogne  and  our  departure  to  Portu¬ 
gal,  and  then  ...  I  have  scarcely  seen  the 
Emperor  until  now.” 

“And  now?” 

Madame  Junot  smiled,  and  shrugged  her 
shoulders.  “I  have  only  told  you  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  story:  how  he  used  to  come  into 
my  room  and  read  his  mail  every  morning  at 
four  o’clock  .  .  .  That  was  compromising, 
was  it  not,  with  all  those  papers  on  the  floor 
marked  ‘  To  the  First  Consul,  personal — to  him 
alone  ’  ?  Almost  a  whole  week  passed  in  this 
manner.  ’  ’ 

“  And  didn’t  he  say  very  much  ?  ” 

195 


The  Governor's  Wife 

Yes,  lie  talked  a  good  deal — you  kMOTv  how 
sentimental  and  how  ironical  he  can  be  at  the 
same  time.  So,  naturally  enough,  I  never  really 
knew  what  he  meant.  And  whenever  he  left  me 
he  would  pinch  my  nose  and  ruffle  my  hair.” 

‘‘But  Junot?” 

“  Junot!  He  commanded  Paris  then,  and  did 
not  know  a  word  of  it ;  Josephine  was  in  Plom- 
bieres,  as  you  remember  ;  and  you  ? — you  were 
far  away,  somewhere  in  Lorraine.  Madame 
Louis'?  Well,  I  was  so  young  I  was  too  bashful 
to  say  anything  to  Madame  Louis.  But  she  un¬ 
derstood  it  all,  just  the  same.” 

Duroc  sighed.  He  often  did  that  when  the 
talk  was  about  Hortense. 

“Then  Junot  dined  at  Malmaison  one  even¬ 
ing.  He  was  to  go  back  the  same  evening  — 
you  know  the  Commander  of  Paris  is  never 
allowed  to  leave  his  post.  But,  yes,  I  got 
him  up  to  my  room  to  say  good- night  —  and 
of  course  I  did  not  let  him  go!”  she  said, 
quickly,  and  with  superiority.  “But  when 
I  heard  Bonaparte  come  to  my  door  in  the 
morning,  then  ...  I  am  not  easily  frightened, 
but  then  I  wished  I  were  hundreds  of  miles 
away.” 

196 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘‘Did  lie  say  anything — the  First  Consult ” 

“  He  looked  at  me,  and  then  he  smiled.  And 
such  a  smile!  He  saw  through  it  immediately; 
then  he  became  angry,  and  mocked  me  because 
I  had  been  afraid.” 

“But  Junot,  Junot?  .  .  .  What  did  he  say 
when  he  saw  Bonaparte  in  your  room?  ” 

“He  only  laughed.  Not  a  suspicion  ever  oc¬ 
curred  to  him — at  that  time!  You  know  well 
enough  his  idea  of  friendship  and  the  sacred 
ties  that  bind  friends.” 

“But  did  he  not  think  Napoleon’s  presence 
peculiar?”  asked  Duroc,  doubtfully. 

“Ah,  at  that  time!  .  .  .  We  had  as  good  as 
no  etiquette,  and  the  First  Consul  said  that  he 
had  promised  to  wake  me  for  the  hunt.  Be¬ 
sides,  he  commenced  to  upbraid  Junot  at  once 
because  he  had  remained  away  from  his  post 
without  permission.  He  is  equal  to  all  emer¬ 
gencies.” 

“  Do  you  think  that  he  was  angry  with  you?  ” 
Duroc  arose  and  walked  up  to  her. 

“Yes.  And  he  would  have  despised  me  had 
it  been  different.  He  did  not  care  for  me  even 
then,  little  as  he  does  now  !  ’  ’ 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  few  moments. 


197 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Then  Madame  Junot  said,  suddenly,  as  she  laid 
both  hands  upon  Duroc’s  breast: 

“Dnroc,  my  friend,  tell  me  honestly — it  has 
always  worried  me,  and  I  have  never  dared  to 
speak  to  any  one  about  it — do  you  think  that 
it  could  have  been  for  such  an  incident  as  this 
.  .  .  that  it  was  my  fault  that  Junot  was  not 
made  a  Marshal  at  the  Coronation  ?  ’  ’ 

‘‘But,  madame!”  exclaimed  Duroc,  depre- 
catingly. 

“Ah,  I  know  what  you  will  say  ...”  She 
let  her  arms  drop  and  turned  half  around.  ‘  ‘  But 
he  is  not  always  just — he  has  never  been  so,” 
she  continued,  sighing. 

“Madame  Junot,  you  must  not  think  such 
things.  You  are  misjudging  the  Emperor 
greatly,”  said  Duroc,  sternly. 

She  threw  her  head  back,  and  again  looked  up 
defiantly  with  her  large  brown  eyes. 

“Because  I  say  that  he  is  not  always  just? 
Ah!  read  his  bulletins  of  last  winter,  and  then 
speak  with  Lannes  and  Ney!  You  know  his 
‘justice’  as  well  as  I — yes,  a  thousand  times 
better.  ’  ’ 

Duroc  smiled,  and  again  caught  the  small, 
restless  hands. 

198 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“Now,  for  the  first  time,  I  realize  that  the 
Emperor  is  right:  you  are,  indeed,  the  greatest 
rebel  in  his  kingdom,  Madame  Laurette  !  ” 

“I?  I  who,  at  this  moment,  would  give  him 
my  life  if  he  demanded  it  in  the  name  of 
France  !  ’  ’ 

“He  knows  that,  well.” 

“  Yes,  he  knows  that !  .  .  .  Ah,  Duroc,  ad¬ 
mit  that  my  position  is  really  difficult.  I  dare 
not  hurt  him  for  Junot’s  sake  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  I  cannot  confide  in  Junot.  You  know  how 
he  is — ‘  The  Tempest,  ’  as  you  all  call  him — he 
fears  nothing;  and  he  would  immediately  de¬ 
mand  an  explanation  from  the  Emperor  himself. 
But  his  position  is  already  so  compromised. 

.  .  .  Ah,  I  dare  not  think  of  it !  ” 

“For  God’s  sake!”  exclaimed  Duroc,  now 
frightened.  “He  is  a  hothead,  a  daredevil! 

.  .  ,  And  you” — he  bent  down  over  her  as 
he  turned  her  face  toward  his,  with  brotherly 
tenderness — “  you  love  him,  my  friend  !  ” 

Laurette  looked  up.  Her  beautiful  eyes 
beamed  with  a  moist  gleam.  She  smilingly  laid 
her  hand  upon  Duroc’ s  lips. 

“  He  is  his  friend’s  best  friend  and  his  own 
worst  enemy  !  ”  she  said,  with  a  proud  woman’s 


199 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

warmtli  and  admiration  for  her  loved  one’s  dar¬ 
ing  and  knightly  unselfishness.  '‘Even  the 
Emperor,  should  he  he  in  danger,  would  turn 
to  Junot  again,  as  he  did  at  Marseilles.  And 
you — and  I — I  ...”  She  covered  her  face 
with  both  hands. 

Duroc  walked  a  step  backward  ;  he  bowed  low 
and  respectfully. 

"Madame!  My  friend!  .  .  .  Now  go  to 
your  husband.  ’  ’ 

Every  evening  her  Majesty  held  her  cercle 
in  the  Tuileries.  In  this,  all  those  who  had  dif¬ 
ferent  grades  of  les  entrees,  which  meant  the 
Princes  and  Princesses  of  the  imperial  family, 
the  foreign  noblemen  who  were  in  Paris,  the 
Marshals,  Ministers,  dignitaries  and  high  officials 
of  the  country,  and  most  of  the  military  and 
civil  court  functionaries — all  these  were  present, 
with  ladies,  without  special  invitation.  Those 
who  had  a  right  to  these  evenings  walked 
through  the  anteroom  and  knocked,  without 
further  ceremony,  at  the  door  to  the  salon.  The 
chamberlain  in  attendance  announced  them,  and 
the  Emperor  himself  said  : 

"  Come  in  !” 


200 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


A  lady  would  quietly  sit  down,  after  she  had 
made  her  obeisances,  to  which  usually  not  much 
attention  was  paid.  A  gentleman  placed  him¬ 
self  just  as  quietly  along  the  wall  by  the  side  of 
those  who  had  come  before  him.  The  Emperor, 
who  always  liked  to  be  in  action,  walked  up  and 
down  the  room,  as  a  rule,  stopping  to  talk  to  one 
or  another,  or  sometimes  to  himself,  engrossed 
in  one  of  those  long  monologues  which  he  loved 
and  often  preferred  to  conversation  with  others. 
The  Empress  was  almost  always  too  engrossed 
with  checkers,  a  game  of  which  she  was  a  mas¬ 
ter,  playing  with  one  or  another  of  the  gentle¬ 
men  whom  she  had  selected  beforehand  for  her 
opponent. 

The  ladies  who  were  not  otherwise  engaged 
played  lotto  in  the  adjoining  salon.  The  gentle¬ 
men  would  converse  among  themselves,  while 
they  anxiously  waited  for  the  Emperor  to  favor 
one  or  another  of  them.  This  happened  very 
seldom,  however,  as  he  preferred  to  talk  with  the 
ladies  at  these  evening  parties. 

Scarcely  had  the  Governor’s  wife  entered  and 
taken  her  seat,  when  his  Majesty  observed  her 
and  directed  his  steps  toward  the  corner  where 
she  sat. 


201 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Meanwhile  people  began  to  whisper,  in  ear¬ 
nest,  that  the  Governor’s  wife  unquestionably 
was  on  the  royal  f-oad  to  la  haute  faveur. 

‘‘ How  is  the  boy,  my  godson  that  is  to  be, 
Madame  Junot  ?  ’  ’  He  pinched  her  ear.  ‘  ‘  E'ow 
I  shall  have  two  little  Junots  to  look  out  for. 
Apropos,  Madame  Laurette,  whom  have  you 
thought  of  for  godmother  ?  ’  ’ 

‘‘Her  Majesty,  the  Empress,  I  hope  .  .  .” 

Napoleon  turned  on  her  that  searching,  pene¬ 
trating  glance  which  she  now  knew  so  well. 

“The  Empress?  Yes?  But  why  not  my 
mother  ?  ’  ’  Their  glances  met ;  they  were  both 
silent.  Then  she  said,  with  decision: 

“With  your  permission.  Sire,  and  if  her 
Majesty  does  not  object,  I  wish  that  it  be  the 
Empress.  ’  ’ 

Napoleon  smiled  almost  unnoticeably,  with  a 
slight  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

“  As  you  wish  it,  Madame  Junot.  You  may 
speak  to  Josephine  about  it.” 

Madame  Junot  understood  both  the  smile  and 
the  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  which  brought  the 
conversation  to  a  sudden  close.  “Poor  Jose¬ 
phine  !”  she  thought,  as  she  watched  the  Em¬ 
peror  move  silently  away.  “  I  am  afraid  I  have 


202 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


been  a  poor  diplomat ;  but  no  one  shall  say  that 
I  have  left  the  sinking  ship.” 

As  a  special  favor,  before  his  nearing  depar¬ 
ture,  the  Empress  invited  Junot  to  a  game  of 
checkers.  She  bent  lower  over  the  checker¬ 
board  as  she  said,  softly: 

“His  Majesty  now  occupies  himself  very 
much  with  Madame  Junot.  Have  you  noticed 
it?” 

Junot  smiled.  His  attention  had  already 
been  called  to  this  by  others. 

Josephine  looked  up,  her  beautiful  mild  eyes 
gleaming  with  unusual  earnestness  under  the 
strongly  painted  brow. 

“  And  you  are  going  away,  Junot?  ” 

“Yes,  your  Majesty,  in  a  few  days.  The 
army  awaits  me.”  He  spoke  quietly. 

“  You — you  are  not  a  little  anxious  about  this 
state  of  affairs?  ” 

This  time  Junot  laughed  aloud,  for  he  knew 
how  nervous  and  suspicious  Josephine  had  be¬ 
come  of  late,  on  account  of  rumors  and  threats 
of  divorce  which  constantly  rang  in  her  ears.  If 
the  Emperor  looked  twice  at  the  same  woman 
she  became  restless  and  jealous. 


203 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

‘‘Your  Majesty,”  he  said,  as  he  bent  over  her 
hand  (she  was  just  moving  a  piece  on  the 
board),  “my  confidence  in  his  Majesty  is,  in 
every  way,  unbounded.” 

The  old  circle,  as  a  relic  of  the  simple  ways  of 
the  Directorate  and  the  Consulate,  still  preserved 
a  certain  off-hand  manner  toward  the  Empress 
when  her  husband  was  not  present ;  and  Junot, 
especially  since  their  mutual  journey  to  Italy  in 
’96,  when  he  and  Josephine  for  a  whole  month 
occupied  the  same  coach,  always  addressed  her 
with  frank  directness. 

“Should  all  of  his  Majesty’s  generals  become 
‘  anxious  ’  upon  departing  from  home,  when  it 
pleased  him  to  send  them  to  war,  discipline  in 
our  army  would  soon  be  at  an  end.” 

Josephine  forced  a  smile  upon  her  tightly 
pressed  lips  as  she  replied  : 

“You  can  understand,  dear  Junot,  that  I  am 
but  joking.  I  wished  only  to  know  whether 
you  had  also  heard  this  absurd  gossip.” 

Their  glances  again  met;  hers  was  sad  and 
restless.  He  noticed  how  old  her  face  had 
grown  (the  thickly  applied  paint  could  not  hide 
it  any  longer),  and  how  sunken  was  the  fine 
mouth.  Then  he  felt  pity  for  this  woman  whom 


204 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


he  had  always  despised,  and  had  always  consid¬ 
ered  unworthy  of  her  proud  position.  The  mo¬ 
ment  was  now  approaching,  judging  from  all 
indications,  which  he  and  so  many  others  of 
Napoleon’s  war-fellows  longed  for — the  moment 
for  the  divorce  from  a  sterile  and  unfaithful 
wife.  And  now,  for  the  first  time,  it  dawned 
upon  him  that  this,  Napoleon’s  divorce  from 
Josephine,  also  meant  divorce  from  all  the  old 
times:  from  the  memories  of  Italy,  of  Egypt,  and 
the  Consulate — from  all  the  i^eriod  which  she 
represented.  Over  the  gracefully  bowed  head 
of  the  Empress  he  could  see  the  young  Queen  of 
Westphalia  at  the  other  end  of  the  salon.  She 
was  dignified,  foreign,  and  correct  to  her  finger¬ 
tips,  as  with  her  stereotyped,  meaningless  smile 
she  accepted  the  compliments  of  the  French 
gentlemen  whose  names  she  tried  in  vain  to  re¬ 
member.  .  .  . 

The  game  was  finished.  The  Governor  of 
Paris  arosa  and  bowed  deeply.  As  the  Empress 
looked  up  at  him  with  her  beautiful  glance,  so 
touchingly  mild  when  she  wished  it,  and  at  part¬ 
ing  quietly  bowed  her  head  with  tlie  tender, 
cordial  grace  which  she,  though  old  and  passee, 
still  preserved,  Junot  suddenly  realized  how 

205 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


mucli  they  all  would  lose  with  Josephine.  Just 
as  she  was — and  she  had  her  faults — so  would 
she  always  be:  the  tie  between  Napoleon  and  his 
past;  she  alone  was  ‘‘Madame  Bonaparte,” 
mistress  of  Malmaison;  it  was  she  alone  who 
had  once  been  called  by  the  soldiers  of  the  Ital¬ 
ian  army,  “  JVbtrc  Dames  des  Victoires.” 


206 


XVI 


J’aime  le  pouvoir,  moi,  mais  c’est  en 
artiste  que  j’aime.  Je  I’aime  comme  un 
musicien  aime  son  violon,  je  I’aime  pour 
en  tirer  des  sons,  des  accords,  des  har¬ 
monies. 

NAPOLfiON. 

II  disait  souvent  que  I’homme  vraiment 
politique  .sait  calculer  jusqu’aux  moindres 
profits  qu’il  peut  faire  des  dcfauts. 

Mme.  DE  RfiMUSAT 
(de  I'Empereur). 


BOUT  the  middle  of  September  the  whole 
elaborate  coui't  moved  to  Fontaine¬ 
bleau.  Here,  at  this  magnificent  and 
favorite  castle,  Napoleon  had  decided  to  cele¬ 
brate  the  grand  festivities  which  he  had  planned 
long  ago  in  honor  of  the  King  of  Westphalia’s 
wedding,  and  as  a  splendid  ending  to  the  agree¬ 
ment  at  Tilsit.  He  wanted  to  give  the  French 
court  an  opportunity  to  again  assert  itself  as  the 
foremost  in  the  world — such  as  it  had  been  under 
Louis  XIV. 

Nearly  all  of  the  imperial  family  made  their 
residence  at  Fontainebleau  with  their  Majesties. 


207 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


There  came  the  newly  married  King  and  Queen, 
Napoleon’s  mother,  Queen  Julia  of  Naples, 
the  Queen  of  Holland,  the  Grand  Duke  and 
Duchesse  of  Berg,  Prince  and  Princess  of  Baden, 
and  Princess  Pauline.  The  Emperor  had,  be¬ 
sides,  invited  all  the  foreign  ambassadors  who, 
after  peace  was  declared,  had  hurried  to  Paris. 
He  had  also  gathered  around  him  the  great  dig¬ 
nitaries  of  his  country  and  its  foremost  men: 
the  Prince  of  Neufch4tel,  the  Prince  of  B6n6vent, 
most  of  the  marshals,  high  officials,  and  Minis¬ 
ters,  with  their  families.  Before  he  should 
stretch  out  his  hand  in  earnest  after  a  new  West¬ 
ern  crown,  he  would  rest  here  for  a  moment  in 
the  heart  of  old  France,  surrounded  by  his  proud 
court:  by  friends  whom  he  had  made  powerful, 
and  by  enemies  whom  he  had  conquered. 

He  had  his  private  apartments  arranged,  as  far 
as  possible,  in  the  same  manner  in  all  of  his  cas¬ 
tles  as  they  were  in  the  Tuileries,  and  the  furni¬ 
ture,  which  had  been  made  after  the  same 
models,  was  also  similarly  arranged.  In  this 
way,  by  “feeling  at  home,”  he  did  not  waste 
time.  The  articles  needed  for  his  work  and 
comfort  were  carried  on  all  his  journeys  in  large, 
practically  arranged  necessaires,  so  that  wher- 


208 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


ever  lie  had  his  headquarters — be  it  in  a  castle 
or  in  a  bivouac — he  could  always  have  about  him 
his  writing-table,  charts,  and  other  materials  ar¬ 
ranged  in  the  special  manner  which  he  had 
found  most  convenient  and  useful. 

The  secretary  and  the  keeper  of  his  portfolio 
had  immediately  assisted  each  other  in  getting 
everything  arranged  ‘^as  usual”  in  the  large 
room  overlooking  the  orangerie.  This  he  had 
selected  for  his  workroom,  and  now — a  couple  of 
hours  after  his  arrival — he  was  walking  to  and 
fro,  from  one  corner  of  the  room  to  the  other, 
engrossed  in  one  of  his  endless  dictations,  while 
Meneval,  to  whom  it  was  entirely  immaterial 
whether  he  wrote  his  quick,  foreshortened  signs 
in  the  Tuileries  or  at  Fountainebleau,  piled  one 
sheet  after  the  other  upon  the  table  in  front  of 
him. 

The  Emperor  was  in  excellent  humor  to-day. 
He  often  stopped  dictating  to  jiick  at  random  a 
book  from  the  shelf.  He  would  open  at  a 
tragedy  by  Corneille,  and  commence  to  recite;  or 
he  would  hum,  out  of  tune,  a  melody  or  an  old 
refrain  from  an  operetta  which  had  been  popular 
during  the  Directorate.  He  smiled  to  himself  as 
he  swayed  to  and  fro  with  his  hands  behind  him. 


209 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

iudiflfereut  to  the  fact  that  he  was  singing  a  street 
song: 

Marat,  du  peuple  le  vengeur  ...” 

Suddenly  he  sat  down  upon  the  arm  of 
Meneval’s  chair,  put  his  hand  out  after  the  snuff¬ 
box  that  lay  upon  the  table,  and  slowly  took  a 
pinch  of  snuff. 

‘‘Lay  your  pen  away,  Meneval” — he  patted 
him  on  the  cheek.  “Let  us  chat  a  little,  my 
friend.” 

“Your  Majesty,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  for¬ 
get  .  .  .” 

“Oh,  nonsense;  you  have  a  memory  like  a 
horse!  Here  at  Fontainebleau  we  really  must 
rest  a  little — you,  as  well  as  I — for  the  sake  of  a 
change!  You  too  must  have  your  share  in  the 
pleasures  of  life,  Meneval.” 

“But,  sire,”  interrupted  the  secretary,  com¬ 
pletely  perplexed,  “how  in  the  world  can  I 
take  time  for  pleasure  and  play,  when  I  realize 
that  you  are  working  steadily  and  need  me  all 
the  time? ” 

The  Emperor  laughed  aloud.  “Bah!  When 
one  wishes,  one  can  find  time  for  everything — 
even  for  love  intrigues,  though  I  must  confess 
they  do  take  a  confounded  lot  of  time  !  ” 


210 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


He  again  walked  over  the  floor,  still  smiling 
and  humming.  Suddenly  he  stopped,  with  his 
thumbs  stuck  into  his  vest-pockets,  and  said,  in 
an  entirely  changed  voice: 

“Have  you  the  despatch  ready  for  Berna- 
dotte  ?  To-day  a  courier  goes  to  Hamburg.  We 
must  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines.  Ah,  Mr. 
Canning;  he  should  know  what  a  favor  he  has 
done  me!  Now  is  the  time  to  give  them  their 
death-blow,  dear  Meneval.  England  has  never 
had  such  mediocre  Ministers  as  at  the  present. 
Public  opinion,  which  was  once  so  hard  for  me 
thoroughly  to  get  the  support  of,  is  at  last  with 
me  on  account  of  the  bombardment  of  Copen¬ 
hagen.  That  act  of  the  English  has  changed  me 
in  their  eyes  from  a  “tyrant”  to  a  “re¬ 
deemer.”  .  .  .  Every  harbor  from  St.  Peters¬ 
burg  to  the  Gulf  of  Taranto  shall  be  closed. 
They  will  thank  me  for  my  continental  blockade. 
Lisbon,  you  say?”  (Meneval  had  not  said  a 
word,  he  only  looked  up. )  “  As  to  Lisbon,  I  can 

trust  Junot.  He  usually  accomplishes  what  he 
sets  out  to  do;  he  must  answer  for  Lisbon  !  ” 

He  rang  the  bell  forcibly.  The  lackey  who 
was  always  in  attendance  outside  the  door, 
entered. 


211 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Send  a  messenger  to  the  Governor  of  Paris. 
I  wish  to  speak  with  him  at  once.” 

While  the  Emperor  was  waiting  for  Junot, 
he  continued  his  silent  wandering  about  the 
room.  Here,  within  these  four  walls  which  he 
called  his  workroom,  he  enjoyed  to  the  fullest 
extent  the  reality  of  his  power.  To  him 
the  pomp  and  glitter  of  his  position  were  but 
the  attendant  circumstances  of  royalty  —  the 
supplement  of  power.  On  the  other  hand,  here 
alone  in  his  study  he  celebrated  his  greatest 
triumphs. 

Never  before  had  his  brain  been  so  productive 
of  gigantic  plans  as  now,  after  he  had  found  his 
long -sought  alliances  at  Tilsit;  never  before  had 
it  seemed  to  him  that  the  way  was  so  open  for 
his  unbounded  ambition.  Europe — this  sus¬ 
picious,  shy,  conservative  Europe,  which  he 
had  courted  so  long — threw  itself  at  last  into  his 
arms.  He  knew,  through  Savary,  that  Alex¬ 
ander  and  EomanzofP,  who  were  now  more 
anxious  than  ever  to  please  him,  had  decided  to 
break  off  all  connection  with  the  cabinet  at 
London.  Metternich  and  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Wurzburg  had  already  as  good  as  decided  to 
accept  the  treaty  about  which  they  had  long 


212 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


negotiated,  in  whicli  Austria — suppressed  and 
tempted  by  his  clever  traps — at  last  openly  broke 
with  England  and  definitely  accepted  his  con¬ 
tinental  policy.  On  his  table  lay  despatches 
from  King  Frederick  William,  with  humble 
assurances  of  Prussia’s  readiness  to  conclude 
with  France  an  otfensive  and  defensive  alliance; 
and  at  last  Denmark,  the  Mistress  of  the  Sound, 
who  had  kept  herself  coyly  at  a  distance,  and  had 
never  ceased  to  boast  of  her  neutrality,  now — 
thanks  to  England’s  brutal  tactics  at  Copen- 
hagan — she  had  no  other  choice  than  to  throw 
herself  kindly  into  his  arms,  ready  to  do  his  bid¬ 
ding,  if  she  might  avenge  the  insult  to  her  capi¬ 
tal  and  the  loss  of  her  fleet. 

Almost  all  Europe  was  at  Napoleon’s  feet,  and 
he  was  but  waiting  for  new  despatches  from  Lis¬ 
bon  to  break  with  Portugal  and  to  hand  her 
ambassador  his  passports.  Only  a  few  days 
more,  and  Junot  should  receive  his  final  and 
secret  instructions. 

The  Emperor  asked  the  Governor  of  Paris  into 
his  workroom — something  which  had  scarcely 
happened  since  the  time  of  the  Consulate.  He 
begged  Junot  to  be  seated  in  one  of  the  few 
chairs  which  stood  here  and  there  alongside  the 


213 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

walls,  while  he  himself  straddled  another  chair, 
his  chin  resting  upon  the  back  of  it. 

‘‘Now,  my  dear  Governor  of  Paris,  are  you 
not  a  little  curious  to  know  why  I  send  you  to 
Bayonne  ?  ’  ’ 

“No,  Sire.  You  have  said — and,  besides,  I 
have  heard  it  repeated  by  others — that  you  wish 
to  get  rid  of  me  at  any  price,”  said  Junot,  with 
a  smile. 

The  Emperor  smiled  also,  and  swayed  to  and 
fro  on  his  chair. 

‘  ‘  And  you  really  believe  that  I  am  childish 
enough  to  let  myself  be  moved  by  personal  rea¬ 
sons  when  an  affair  concerns  the  state?  That 
may  have  been  possible  in  the  days  of  the  ancient 
regime.”  He  shook  his  head  several  times. 
“  Ah,  no;  I  have  outgrown  that !  But  you, 
Junot — who,  in  spite  of  all  your  stupidities,  are 
a  clever  fellow — you  don’t  believe  it  either.” 

“No,  your  Majesty,”  said  Junot,  sincerely, 
“no  longer.” 

“You  remember,  perhaps,  that  you  were  once 
Ambassador  to  Portugal  ?  ” 

Junot  laughed.  Napoleon  had  now  completely 
won  him  over  by  his  good  humor. 

“And  that  you  so  impressed  the  Prince  of 


214 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


Brazil  with  your  hussar  uniform  that  you  almost 
made  a  revolution  iu  the  palace,  or,  rather,  a 
wardrobe  revolution  ?  I  believe  that  he  almost 
sacrificed  his  braid  of  hair  ...” 

‘‘But,  Sire,  where  in  the  world  do  you  get 
that  from?”  exclaimed  Juuot,  laughing. 

“Your  wife  told  it  to  Josephine.  Ah,  I  know 
everything.  .  .  .  Tell  me — do  you  believe  that 
you  can  once  more  astonish  his  Highness  with 
your  hussar  uniform  and  26,000  men  at  your 
heels  ?  ’  ’ 

“With  26,000  men! — yes,  sire,  I  believe  I 
can.  ’  ’ 

“Good.”  The  Emperor  nodded.  “ They  are 
now  at  Bayonne.  Now  you  know  what  the 
‘  Observation  Army  of  the  Gironde  ’  is  for,  and 
why  I  select  you,  who  know  Portugal  so  well, 
for  its  leader.” 

Junot  bowed  silently.  His  heart  beat  with 
joy  and  expectation. 

“I  tell  you  this  now,  so  that  you  can  make 
your  plans.  Sealed  orders  are  good  enough, 
but — yoiT  know  I  trust  you.  .  .  .  For  you  I 
have  reserved  the  honor  of  depriving  England 
of  her  last  friend  on  the  Continent ;  I  send  you 
to  battle  with  my  worst  enemy.  Now,  Junot, 


215 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

you  have  an  opportunity  to  avenge  your  captiv¬ 
ity  in  Egypt.” 

“Sire,”  said  General  Junot,  solemnly,  as  he 
arose  and  bent  low  over  the  Emperor’s  extended 
hand,  “if  passionate  devotion  and  undaunted 
bravery  can  accomplish  what  you  desire,  then 
we  must  succeed.” 

Napoleon,  who  had  also  risen,  was  touched  by 
Junot’ s  words,  and  pressed  the  hand  which  so 
eagerly  clutched  his. 

“  There,  you  see!  One  should  never  misjudge 
an  old  friend,  Junot,”  said  he,  smiling  in  his  be¬ 
guiling  manner. 

Junot  had  large  tears  in  his  eyes;  he  laid  the 
Emperor’s  hand  upon  his  heart. 

“Your  Majesty  !  ”  he  murmured. 

“Now,  there,  old  friend.  .  .  .  And  now  you 
are  responsible  for  the  closing  of  Oporto  and 
Lisbon  to  the  English  before  Christmas.  Soon — 
soon,  my  friend — the  house  of  Braganza  shall 
have  ceased  to  reign!  ” 

But  it  seemed  as  though  Napoleon  regretted 
that  he  had  disclosed  one  of  his  most  secret 
thoughts;  he  bit  his  lips,  turned  on  his  heel,  and 
walked  to  the  window.  Junot,  as  if  enchanted, 
rested  his  glance  in  worship  on  the  Emperor’s 


216 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


proud  profile,  which  was  sharply  drawn  upon 
the  window.  His  wife  was  right:  this  man  was 
his  god,  he  really  knew  no  other. 

“You  shall,  later  on,  get  more  detailed 
instructions,”  continued  the  Emperor,  in  a 
more  business-like  tone,  as  he  strolled  up  and 
down  between  MenevaFs  writing-table  and  Ju- 
not,  who  stood  immovable  in  his  corner,  with 
both  hands  upon  the  hilt  of  his  sword.  “In 
a  week  you  will  be  at  Bayonne,  and  next 
month,  I  think,  you  can  cross  the  Pyrenees.  In 
regard  to  Spain  you  will  get  further  orders. 
Show,  now,  that  you  have  been  a  diplomat ! 
You  know  I  have  a  lucky  hand  ;  he  whom  I 
select  for  a  purpose  is  usually  successful. 

“You  see,”  continued  the  Emperor  slowly, 
again  entirely  confidential  to  his  friend,  “Spain 
is  a  ticklish  point;  she  causes  me  a  deal  of 
trouble.  I  must  support  Spain  ;  she  is  sinking 
deeper  and  deeper,  and  she  will  soon  be  of  no 
more  use  to  us.  We  must,  however,  profit  by 
her  resources  .  .  . 

“But  how  you  look  at  me,  Junot!”  He 
stopped  in  front  of  him,  with  both  hands  behind 
his  back.  “You  think  I  am  raving,  as  in 
Egypt,  at  the  St.  Jean  d’Arc,  don’t  you?  ” 


217 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

‘‘Sire,”  exclaimed  Junot,  as  lie  looked  into 
his  eyes,  “you  know  that  ever  since  we  two 
first  met  at  the  sansculotte  battery  at  Toulon  I 
have  believed  in  you,  if  anybody  has.” 

“You  have  a  cause!”  He  nodded.  “You 
were  really  the  first  one  who  voluntarily  tied  his 
fate  to  mine.  But  still,”  he  lifted  his  head,  and 
nodded  more  slowly — “still  we  are  far  from  the 
goal.” 

Junot  smiled  proudly,  and  was  happy  under 
the  Emperor’s  strong,  beaming  glance. 

“Then  I  can  surely  trust  you.”  He  passed 
his  hand  over  Junot’ s  bent  head  and  smiled  sud¬ 
denly.  “The  old  scar  is  still  there,  I  can  feel 
it.  .  .  .  My  friend,  in  the  battles  which  now 
await  you,  I  need  scarcely  beg  you  to  remember 
Arcole  and  Lonato.” 

“My  General!  my  Emperor  !  ...” 

“There,  now,  Junot.  .  .  .  You  are  too  forci¬ 
ble,  too  impetuous,  my  old  friend.  But  you 
know  now  what  your  Emperor  expects  of  you. 
One  thing  more”  (Junot  had  already  neared 
the  door):  “you  understand  that  what  I  have 
told  you  must  not  be  disclosed  to  any  one.” 

“Your  Majesty!”  exclaimed  Junot,  indig¬ 
nantly. 

218 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“Yes,  yes  .  .  .  I  know,  I  know;  but  your 
wife  is  a  clever  little  imp,  and  you  are  a  bit 
weak  in  regard  to  her.  I  only  warn  you  ;  be 
careful  !  ” 

Juuot  bowed  again,  with  his  hand  on  his 
heart,  and  then  left  the  room,  the  Emperor’s 
smiling  glance  following  him. 


219 


XVII 


J’ai  toujours  aimfi  I’analyse,  et  si  jo 
devenais  serieusement  amoreux,  je  de- 
composerais  mon  amour  pi^ce  ^  pidce. 

Napoleon. 

II  faut  toujours  tenir  nos  vanit^s  en 
haleine  3,  nous  autres,  la  s6v6rit6  du 
gouvernement  republicain  vous  e(it  en- 
nuy6  a.  mort. 

Napol4on. 

IS  Majesty  breakfasted  early  on  the 
morning  of  the  hunt ;  in  faet,  he  had 
long  been  busily  engaged  when  the 
hunting  cavalcade  gathered  in  la  hour  du 
Cheval-Blanc.  The  ladies,  in  their  fantastic 
costumes  of  the  same  color  as  that  of  the  Princess 
to  whose  court  they  belonged,  had  already  taken 
their  places  in  the  open  carriages  and  a  few 
were  mounted  when  the  Emperor,  who  always 
came  last,  descended  the  horseshoe  stairs,  accom¬ 
panied  by  his  suite. 

The  morning  was  misty  and  cool,  and  the 
roads  were  still  soaked  with  the  rain  of  the  night; 
everything  was  in  striking  contrast  to  the  gay 
cavalcade  which  shed  its  brilliancy  on  all  sides. 


220 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


First  came  the  hunters,  then  the  carriages,  and, 
last,  the  wagons  with  provisions  and  the  service 
for  the  luncheon — cooks  and  servants  following 
after.  The  Emperor  rode  for  a  time  at  the  side 
of  the  carriage  in  which  the  Emjjress  and  his 
mother  sat,  his  greeting  to  Josephine  having 
been  an  indifferent  one. 

Under  the  clear  and  telling  light  of  the  morn¬ 
ing  sun  Josephine  did  not  show  to  advantage  in 
a  half  Oriental  costume  which  Napoleon  had 
designed  for  her.  Napoleon  did  not  make  any 
remarks  about  it,  however;  but,  after  speaking 
a  few  words  to  the  ladies,  he  touched  his  hat,  put 
spurs  to  his  horse,  and  flew  off  with  loose  reins. 

He  did  not  hunt  for  the  sake  of  the  game. 
Sport  did  not  amuse  him  any  more  than  gam¬ 
bling,  and  he  could  not  understand  how  any  one 
could  appreciate  the  miserable  and  quite  imag¬ 
inary  results  which  they  obtained.  But  hunting 
gave  him  an  opportunity  for  vigorous  bodily 
exercise  in  the  time  of  peace,  the  only  change 
which  he  cared  for  and  considered  useful.  He 
liked  to  go  away  by  himself  and  be  alone;  and 
with  the  exception  of  the  stable-master,  Jardin, 
who  always  followed  him  like  a  shadow  at  a  re¬ 
spectful  distance,  he  would  roam  around  unat- 


221 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

tended  in  this  ancient,  memorable,  forest  which 
he  loved  so  well,  and  here  think  out  his  most 
daring  thoughts  and  dream  his  proudest  dreams. 
Besides,  these  great  hunting  festivities  appealed 
to  his  esthetic  and  aristocratic  tastes.  He  liked 
to  hear  the  horn  ring  out  through  the  forest,  the 
yelp  of  the  hounds,  and  the  rousing,  jubilant 
“  Rallali  ”  when  the  deer  fell.  He  liked  to  see 
his  stately  cavaliers  rush  past  him  on  their  fiery 
steeds,  and  perceive  the  ladies  who,  gaily  and 
gracefully  attired  in  their  attractive  costumes, 
presided  at  the  merry  luncheon  under  the  trees. 
Such  scenes  reminded  him  of  his  youth,  of  the 
life  in  the  field,  of  old  times  at  Malmaison — of 
everything  he  liked  to  remember. 

So  now,  without  a  thought  as  to  the  direction 
he  had  taken,  the  Emperor  had  neared  the  heights 
at  Franchard.  He  stopped  there  a  moment,  lis¬ 
tening  to  the  hunt,  the  noise  of  which  could  be 
heard  in  the  distance;  he  then  gave  his  horse  free 
rein,  and  at  a  furious  speed  rushed  down  the 
steep  embankment.  Down  in  the  valley,  sharply 
drawn  against  the  white  rocks  which  arose  behind 
her,  was  a  solitary  lady  on  horseback.  Her 
white  mare  reared  with  fright  as  the  Emperor 
rushed  toward  them  so  unexpectedly. 

222 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


'‘Is  it  you?”  called  Napoleon  to  the  lady. 
“Why  in  the  world  do  yon  stop  here  alone, 
Madame  Junot  ?  ”  He  rode  breathlessly  up  to 
her. 

“I  was  a  little  tired,  and  then.  .  .  .  Yes, 
I  really  do  not  know  how  it  happened  that  the 
others  escaped  me.  But  they  were  all  so  stren¬ 
uous  in  following  the  deer  that  I  preferred  to 
stop  here  and  rest  for  a  while — it  is  so  beautiful 
here.  ...”  She  made  a  sweeping  gesture  with 
her  hand  to  call  his  attention  to  the  beautiful 
surroundings  of  the  spot. 

The  sun,  now  in  earnest,  broke  through  the 
mist  which,  like  a  soft,  torn  veil,  still  hovered 
around  the  pointed  tops  of  the  rocks.  Yet  the 
Emperor  did  not  look  at  the  view,  but  watched 
the  Governor’ s  wife  somewhat  curiously.  Jardin 
stopped  at  a  little  distance. 

“It  isn’t  at  all  your  way  to  become  ‘tired,’  ” 
said  he. 

Madame  Junot  bent  low  over  the  mare’s  neck 
and  patted  it,  while  the  Emperor  continued  to 
look  at  her  with  his  peculiar,  unmerciful  glance. 
Her  hunting  costume  was  very  becoming,  deco¬ 
rated  as  it  was  with  the  colors  of  the  Empress. 
The  short  tunic  of  purple  velvet,  embroidered 


223 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

with  gold,  fell  gracefully  down  over  a  white  silk 
skirt,  which,  for  the  sake  of  convenience,  was 
slightly  lifted  at  the  side,  so  that  the  little  hoots 
of  red  velvet  were  visible.  Around  her  waist 
was  a  broad  red  scarf,  and  on  her  head  a  black 
toque  boldly  turned  up  in  front,  with  waving 
white  plumes,  under  which  her  rich,  dark  hair 
rippled  in  a  mille  boucles  coiffure.  Her  fresh 
beauty  was  magnificently  emphasized  by  these 
strong,  rich  colors. 

They  slowly  commenced — still  followed  by 
Jardin — to  pick  their  way  in  silence  among  the 
rocks.  As  the  road  was  especially  bad,  being 
wet  and  slippery,  Napoleon  frequently  took  hold 
of  her  horse’s  bit  to  guide  the  animal  more  surely. 

“This  reminds  me  of  our  youth,  Madame  la 
Gouverneuse.  Yes,  of  course  you  are  now  old 
enough  for  one  to  speak  about  youth  without 
danger  of  offense.  I  do  not  know  whether  your 
Grace  remembers  a  certain  tete-d-tete  at  the  hunt 
at  Butard  ?  ’  ’ 

Madame  Junot  knew  that  the  Emperor  loved 
to  surprise  his  friends  as  well  as  his  enemies, 
but  she  was  not  at  all  prepared  for  this  attack. 
In  all  the  intervening  years  he  had  never  as 
much  as  hinted  at  the  events  of  that  morning 
224 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


and  at  what  had  happened  on  the  way  to 
Butard. 

conrse,  your  Majesty,”  she  answered, 
with  an  unsteadiness  unusual  for  her,  “How 
should  I  be  able  to  forget  one  of  the  few  times 
when  I  have  had  the  honor  of  speaking  with 
your  Majesty  ?  ’  ’ 

He  stopped,  eyed  her  closely,  and  smiled 
faintly.  “How  funny!  You  speak  your  lines 
so  fluently  and  with  perfectly  correct  accentua¬ 
tion.  .  .  ,  Even  Madame  de  Chevreuse  is  no 
greater  actress  than  you  I  ” 

“You  have  made  that  remark  often  before. 
Sire,”  she  answered,  “but  it  has  never  pleased 
you  to  give  me  any  reason  for  your  opinion.” 

“I  know  no  one — at  least,  no  woman — who  has 
opposed  my  will  in  every  way,  as  you  have,”  he 
continued,  without  wishing  to  listen  to  her. 

“Of  course,  I  dare  not  say  that,  your  Majesty 
is  unjust,”  she  said,  with  tears  in  her  eyes  from 
vexation  and  nervousness;  for  quite  apart  from 
the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  moment,  she 
was  harassed  by  the  thought  of  Junot’s  departure 
on  the  morrow,  the  anguish  of  which  was  already 
upon  her. 

His  look  now  changed  to  a  roguish  glance. 


225 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

such  as  she  had  not  seen  since  “their  youth,” 
as  he  expressed  it. 

“Unjust?  Dare  I  again  remind  your  Grace 
of  the  trip  to  Butard  ?  ’  ’ 

Laurette  laughed  aloud,  vastly  relieved  by  the 
Emperor’s  good  humor,  and  much  diverted  by 
the  medley  of  emotions  that  followed.  “Ah, 
that  time!”  she  said.  “Your  Majesty  puts 
me  really  quite  at  a  loss  by  constantly  coming 
back  to  the  mysterious  incident  which,  I  must 
confess,  I  do  not  quite  remember.”  She  could 
not  help  looking  at  him  secretly  with  a  roguish 
glance  from  under  her  eyelashes,  and  this  be¬ 
trayed  her.  She  was,  however,  quite  herself 
again,  and  no  longer  awed  by  the  impending 
conversation,  which  she  knew  must  be  decisive. 

“Ah,  ha,  Madame  Junot !  Shall  I  help  your 
memory  a  little  ?  The  little  incident  began  when 
you  took  many  unnecessary  precautions  against 
what  you  thought  to  be  a  criminal  caprice  of  the 
First  Consul.”  Still  he  did  not  succeed  in  ruf¬ 
fling  her;  but  his  sarcastic  voice  made  her  lose 
her  patience,  which  never  stretched  very  far. 
And  when  she  became  impatient  or  angry  she 
easily  forgot  that  she  no  longer  spoke  to  General 
Bonaparte.  She  answered,  impetuously: 


226 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“Criminal!  That  is  a  word  which  you  are 
adding  yourself.  But  can  you  deny  that  such 
an  act  was  a  caprice  V’ 

She  looked  earnestly  at  him  with  her  beaming 
brown  eyes.  Their  glances  met. 

“No,”  he  said,  sternly.  “Yes,  perhaps, 
partly;  it  is  difiBcult  fully  to  analyze  the  feeling 
a  man  has  for  a  woman.  But  I  believe — pecul¬ 
iar  as  it  may  seem  to  both  you  and  to  me — 
that  it  really  was  a  feeling  of  friendship.  That 
is  something  which  I  seldom  used  to  feel  for 
ladies,  but  you  .  .  .  there  is  something  about 
you  which  greatly  attracts  me.  Mark  well,  I 
do  not  for  a  moment  say  that  I  love  you,  but  .  .  . 
I  believe  we  could  have  been  very  good  friends, 
Madame  Junot.” 

“Friends,  Sire!”  she  repeated,  slowly  and 
very  earnestly.  “  It  seems  to  me  that  .  .  .” 

“Ah,  I  know  what  you  would  say,”  he  inter¬ 
rupted,  impatiently.  “  Yes,  just  friends  !  You 
see,  in  my  opinion  friendship  is  impossible  be¬ 
tween  men  and  women  of  our  age,  unless  .  .  .” 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

She  did  not  answer,  and  he  avoided  looking  at 
her  as  he  continued,  slowly: 

“You  were  at  that  time  but  a  mere  child. 

227 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

You  were  a  little  conceited  and  headstrong,  as 
you  always  have  been.  And  then  you  made 
the  mistake  of  considering  as  an  offense  to  your 
honor  that  which  was  only — well,  what  shall  I 
say  ?  ’  ’ 

It  appeared  to  Madame  Junot  that  it  would 
have  been  quite  difficult  to  construe  these  re¬ 
peated  tete-a-Utes  at  her  bedside  at  four  o’clock 
in  the  morning  in  any  other  manner.  She  pon¬ 
dered  a  little  as  to  how  he  would  get  out  of  it. 

‘‘At  that  time,  madame,  the  First  Consul 
offered  his  hand  to  you  in  friendship;  he  longed 
to  have  a  clever,  sweet  friend.  But  that  was 
long  ago,  Madame  Laurette — long  ago.  Is  it 
not  so  ?  ” 

“Yes,  your  Majesty,  it  certainly  was  very 
long  ago.  The  surprise  is  that  your  Majesty 
still  remembers  it.” 

“You  do  not  sit  badly  on  a  horse,  Madame 
Junot,  considering  that  you  have  but  ridden  a 
few  months.  I  remember  when  Junot  swore 
that  his  little  Sevres  doll  should  never  be  per¬ 
mitted  to  risk  her  precious  life  on  the  back  of  a 
horse — you  see,  I  have  a  good  memory  ! — and 
now  he  has  taught  you  the  art  himself.  Yes, 
we  all  change  !  ” 

228 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


“It  was  my  own  special  wish,  Sire,”  an¬ 
swered  Madame  Junot,  poutingly. 

“Certainly.”  They  walked  their  horses  to¬ 
ward  the  rest  of  the  party,  Jardin  behind  them. 
“Do  you  see  how  they  stare  at  you  ?  To-mor¬ 
row  a  dozen  anonymous  letters  will  be  written 
to  Junot,  saying  that  the  Emperor  at  last  has 
decided  upon  a  ‘  maitresse  en  titre.’  Then  he 
will  turn  around  on  the  way  to  Bayonne,  spur 
his  best  horses,  and  come  back  aflying  .  .  . 
Ah,  I  know  Junot !  What  answer  shall  I  make 
him  then  ?  ” 

“How  do  I  know.  Sire?  How  would  it  be 
possible  for  me  to  know  what  the  Emperor  had 
decided?  ” 

“But  you  do  know  .  .  .” 

“That  he  has  not  thought  of  Madame  Junot. 
Yes,  that  I  know,  your  Majesty.” 

The  Emperor  looked  at  her  for  a  long  time, 
and  then  burst  out  laughing  aloud. 

“You  are  a  veritable  little  devil !  To  think 
of  it !  How  could  you  guess  that  I  really  had 
not  for  a  moment  thought  of  Madame  Junot  ?  ” 

Queen  Hortense  was  still  seated  in  her  car¬ 
riage  in  the  midst  of  the  hunting  party,  and  she 
held  a  brilliant  group  of  cavaliers  about  her 


229 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


equipage.  When  the  Emperor  and  Madame 
Junot  joined  the  hunting  party,  Napoleon  beck¬ 
oned  to  the  Governor  of  Paris,  who,  with  hat  in 
hand,  was  speaking  to  Queen  Hortense. 

“See  here,  Junot !  Here  you  have  your  wife 
again.  She  came  within  a  hairbreadth  of  dis¬ 
appearing  forever  among  the  cliffs  at  Franchard 
— just  like  Eurydice  !  ” 

His  Majesty  dismounted  and  took  his  place  at 
the  table,  which  was  already  set.  He  turned  to 
the  Ambassador  from  Escurial,  the  Duke  of 
Frias,  and  said,  graciously  : 

“How  does  your  Grace  enjoy  the  hunt?  I 
do  not  suppose  it  much  resembles  those  of  his 
Catholic  Majesty  at  Aranjuez?  ” 

The  proud  Spaniard  bowed,  looked  up  at  the 
sky,  and  answered  :  “His  Catholic  Majesty, 
Sire,  always  lunches  under  a  tent.” 

“I,  however,  prefer  the  sky,”  answered  the 
Emperor,  with  superiority,  as  he  turned  around. 

The  sun  was  now  shining  brightly,  and  through 
the  scant  foliage  there  fell  a  warm,  trembling 
light  over  the  long  table,  around  which  the 
guests  were  already  taking  their  places.  The 
table  was  placed  on  the  grass  upon  a  portable 
wooden  platform  covered  with  a  thin  Aubusson 


230 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


carpet.  The  service  was,  in  all  details,  entirely 
of  silver,  marked  with  the  imperial  monogram. 
Here  in  the  woods,  after  an  animated  hunt,  and 
now  that  everybody  was  hungry,  it  was  almost 
impossible,  in  spite  of  the  exertions  of  Monsieur 
de  Segurs  and  the  Prefet,  strictly  to  maintain 
the  formal  service  which  Napoleon  always  de¬ 
manded.  Here  nature  and  old  habits  again  held 
sway,  here  appeared  reminiscences  of  the  happy 
and  graceful  lack  of  form  of  the  days  of  the 
Directorate  and  the  Consulate.  The  Emperor 
did  not  comprehend  it  himself,  but  his  court 
really  never  had  a  greater  resemblance  to  the 
old  French  court,  which  he  so  much  wished 
it  to  resemble,  than  at  such  functions  as 
these,  when  all  these  brave  men  and  m.erry, 
beautiful  women,  freed  from  the  restraint  of 
the  still  scarcely  learned  ceremony,  gave  them¬ 
selves  up  to  the  vivacious  sway  of  their  Gallic 
natures. 

That  was  why  the  hunt  was  considered  the 
best  of  pleasures  by  all — even  by  those  who  did 
not  take  an  active  part  in  it.  From  the  time 
they  gathered  in  the  morning,  at  the  blast  of 
the  horn,  until  the  curee  in  the  evening,  when 
the  hounds  fell  over  the  prey  in  the  gleam  of  the 

231 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

torches,  there  was  nothing  hut  gaiety  and  hap¬ 
piness  the  whole  day  long. 

The  Emperor  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  ; 
slowly,  almost  caressingly,  he  let  his  eyes  wander 
over  the  many  guests.  Among  the  gentlemen’s 
green  hunting  costumes  glittered  the  ladies’ 
dresses — in  white  and  purple,  silver  and  lilac, 
rose  and  blue. 

The  knives  and  forks  rattled  against  the  silver 
plates,  the  wine  sparkled  as  it  flowed  from  the 
silver  decanters  into  the  crystal  cups  which  ring- 
ingly  touched  each  other,  while  laughter  pealed 
from  fresh  lips.  And  midst  all  this  noise  and 
hum  he  could  sometimes  catch  the  words  of  com¬ 
pliments  and  quickly  turned  repartee  in  the 
clear,  daring,  French  accents  which  he  loved  so 
much. 

The  Duke  of  Wurzburg,  the  brother  of  Em¬ 
peror  Franz,  gallantly  entertained  her  Majesty 
the  Empress  with  descriptions  of  a  modern  Eng¬ 
lish  park  with  which  he  intended  to  surround 
his  new  residence.  Josephine,  who  understood 
a  good  deal  about  such  things,  was  highly  inter¬ 
ested  and  gave  him  good  advice.  At  last  he 
also  appealed  to  the  Emperor,  to  hear  his  opinion 
on  the  subject. 

232 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


‘  ^  An  English  park,  you  say  ?  ’  ’  The  Emperor 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  clinched  the  hand 
which  rested  upon  the  table-cloth.  “  Ah,  yes  ! 
But  still  I  think  that  is  a  caprice  most  suitable 
for  millionaires.  .  .  .  My  English  park,  your 
Highness” — he  made  a  sweeping  movement  of 
the  hand — “  you  see  right  here.  It  is  the  forest 
around  Fontainebleau.” 

The  Governor  of  Paris  had  not,  during  the 
whole  day,  attempted  to  converse  with  Princess 
Caroline,  although  many  excellent  oppoituuities 
had  offered  themselves,  and  he  had  caught 
several  glances  from  her  which  jDlainly  told  him 
that  he  might  do  so.  But  when  they  all  arose 
from  the  table,  he  happened,  for  a  moment,  to 
be  near  her  lady  in  attendance.  Mademoiselle  de 
la  Grange,  whom  he  had  noticed  circling  around 
him  for  some  time.  He  had  always  disliked  the 
flattering  old  schemer,  although  he  had  not  hesi¬ 
tated  to  use  her  when  he  had  occasion.  Now,  as 
she  approached  him,  dressed  in  pink  and  silver, 
wearing  the  colors  of  the  Princess,  she  was  almost 
disgusting  to  him. 

Mademoiselle  de  la  Grange  laid  a  long,  bony 
finger  on  her  painted  lips  and  whispered  : 

“  I  know  a  lady  who  is  veiy  sorry  about  a  cer- 


233 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

taiu  person’s  approacMng  departure.  At  the 
ball  to-night  she  expects  that  he  will  find  an  op¬ 
portunity  to  speak  with  her.” 

The  Governor  of  Paris,  after  having  won  the 
affections  of  the  Emperor’s  sister,  now  avoided 
her  as  much  as  possible.  Two  days  before  she 
had  shown  such  unconcerned  and  selfish  perfidy 
that  he  fairly  hated  her  for  it.  It  hurt  his  pride 
as  a  man  that  he  met  his  rebuff  in  the  presence 
of  Metternich,  whom  every  one  was  pointing  to 
as  his  successor  in  her  favor.  It  hurt  him,  too — 
more  than  he  was  willing  to  admit,  even  to  him¬ 
self — that,  in  the  game  she  was  playing,  she 
threw  him  away  as  a  worthless  card  at  the  first 
breath  of  censure  for  her  folly. 

The  Emperor  and  the  Empress  partook  of  the 
dinner  apart,  while  Duroc  did  les  Jionneurs  at 
his  table  for  those  of  the  royal  guests  who  did 
not  have  their  own  establishments  at  Fontaine¬ 
bleau.  After  this  function  was  over,  the  Emperor 
gave  a  ball  in  the  Francis  I.  gaUery,  a  grand  old 
festival-hall  now  used  a  great  deal  more  than  it 
had  been  during  Vancicn  regime.  The  Emperor 
thought  his  young  court  showed  to  better  advan¬ 
tage  under  those  enormous  chandeliers  which 
hung  from  the  artistically  carved  ceiling,  among 


234 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


the  proud,  historic  emblems  on  the  long  walls: 
the  golden  F  alternating  with  salamanders,  with 
paintings  by  Eosso,  and  with  bold  sculptures 
by  Primaticcio. 

In  the  evening,  while  on  his  usual  rounds,  the 
Emperor  stopped  for  a  moment,  leaned  against 
the  monumental  fireplace  at  one  end  of  the  hall, 
and  looked  down  through  the  enormous  rooms, 
where  all  in  France  who  had  aristocratic  names, 
or  beauty,  or  fame,  took  part  in  the  quadrille. 
Then  it  was  that  he  experienced  the  same  feel¬ 
ings  as  when  he  reviewed  the  troops  upon  the 
battle-field  after  a  victory.  He  refused  no  tri¬ 
umphs  when  they  could  enlarge  his  imperial 
prestige,  whether  they  were  won  upon  the  pol¬ 
ished  floor  of  the  festal  hall  at  Fontainebleau, 
or  upon  the  bloody  meadows  of  Eylau. 

Princess  Pauline,  on  account  of  her  poor 
health,  did  not  dance,  although  she  was  always 
present  at  the  festivals.  She  sat  that  night  in  a 
large  chair  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  the  fairest 
of  the  fair,  decked  with  her  own  diamonds  as 
well  as  those  of  the  house  of  Borghese.  In  her 
lap  she  held  a  rose,  a  ring,  and  a  handkerchief, 
while,  back  of  her  chair,  gracefully  grouped, 
stood  Princess  Caroline,  Madame  de  Canisy,  and 


235 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


the  Duchess  of  Chevreuse.  The  young  Duke  of 
Mecklenhurg-Schwerin,  Prince  Murat,  and  Gen¬ 
eral  Junot  knelt  upon  three  pillows  at  her  feet. 
Meantime,  with  great  solemnity,  the  young  ladies 
tied  a  soft  silk  veil  before  the  eyes  of  the  Prin¬ 
cess,  after  they  themselves  had  first  been  named  as 
the  ring,  the  rose,  and  the  handkerchief.  Blind, 
like  Fortuna,  Princess  Pauline  distributed  the 
emblems  to  the  three  kneeling  cavaliers.  The 
Duke  of  Mecklenburg  got  the  ring ;  he  arose 
immediately  and  bowed  to  Madame  de  Canisy. 
Murat  got  the  handkerchief,  which  represented 
the  Duchess  of  Chevreuse,  who,  with  an  almost 
unnoticeable  wrinkling  of  her  fine  little  nose, 
decided  to  give  him  her  hand  while  she  fleet- 
ingly  glanced  at  the  Duke  of  Mecklenburg. 
Last  of  all,  Junot  received  the  rose.  The  Grand 
Duchess  of  Berg  and  Cleve  haughtily  placed  her 
royal  hand  in  the  Governor’s,  while  every  one 
wondered  whether  Princess  Pauline  really  had 
been  as  blind  as  she  looked  when  she  drew  the 
lots. 

The  three  couples  solemnly  took  a  few  turns 
of  the  dance,  and  then  gave  way  to  others.  The 
interest  of  the  guests  now  concentrated  upon  the 
jealous  little  Queen  of  Westphalia,  and  they 


236 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


wondered  whether  she  would  allow  her  husband 
— one  of  the  gentlemen  kneeling  before  her — to 
dance  with  Princess  Stephanie.  The  confusion 
and  change  of  interest  gave  Junot  and  Caroline 
a  chance,  quite  unnoticed,  to  exchange  a  few 
words  with  each  other. 

“Tell  me,”  whispered  the  Princess,  “shall  I 
not  see  you  again  before  you  go  away  ?  ” 

“I  do  not  think  so.  That  would  be  very  un¬ 
wise  in  our  situation,  as  you  no  doubt  realize  as 
well  as  I,”  answered  Junot,  softly. 

“You  are  still  angry  with  me  on  account  of 
the  .  .  .  other  day?  .  .  .” 

“Your  great  kindness,  your  Highness,  has 
filled  my  soul  with  such  gratitude  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  me  to  feel  angry  toward  you.” 

The  Princess  bit  her  lip.  She  felt  intuitively 
the  hidden  bitterness  in  this  answer,  and  she 
looked  up  for  the  first  time  during  their  conver¬ 
sation.  His  eyes  met  hers  with  an  expression 
which,  in  spite  of  its  tender  sentimentality,  could 
not  quite  disguise  the  triumphant  smile  around 
his  lips.  The  Princess  tapped  her  foot  impa¬ 
tiently  upon  the  floor.  She  hated  him  for  his 
proud,  merciless  sagacity,  which  laid  as  a  weight 
upon  her  heart.  She  said,  with  emotion: 


237 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

“  But  you  will  write  to  me,  my  friend  ?  .  , 

He  laid  liis  liand  upon  his  heart.  Nothing, 
your  Highness,  will  give  me  greater  consolation 
in  my  loneliness.” 

The  Princess  looked  questioningly  at  her 
lover.  She  knew  him  so  well.  She  knew  that  if 
he  once  got  his  erratic  and  impetuous  nature 
under  control  he  would  rise  vastly  her  superior 
in  irony  and  sarcasm.  He  was  a  good  deal  of 
a  riddle  to  her  to-night,  and  his  treatment  of 
her,  she  vaguely  felt,  was  for  some  reason  very 
humiliating. 

‘‘You  should  have  every  confidence  in  me,” 
she  said,  quickly,  and  with  greater  earnestness. 
“Eemember,  Junot,  if  you  are  ever  in  need — 
remember  that  you  have  a  true  friend  in  me.” 

Junot,  by  way  of  answer,  tenderly  pressed  the 
soft  little  hand  that  stole  into  his.  This  linger¬ 
ing  hand-shake  with  which  they  parted  expressed 
his  last  gallant  and  appreciative  thanks  to  her 
for  all  that  she  had  been  to  him. 


238 


XVIII 


Nous  ne  pouvons  nous  aimer  avec 
passion  et  vivre  parfaitement  heureux. 
Mais  I’amour  vaut  bien  ia  paix  —  n’est- 
ce  pas  f 

Mme.  Jdnot 
(“  fitienne  Saulnier  ”). 

L’avenir  est  a  mepriser  pour  I’homme 
qui  a  du  courage. 

Napoleon 

(Correspondance  de  I'Empereur). 

T  was  about  midnight  when  Madame 
Junot  returned  from  the  ball  to  the 
apartment  which  had  been  designated  for 
her  and  her  husband  in  one  of  the  pavilions  of 
the  castle.  Junot  had  not  returned  as  yet.  He 
wished  to  speak  once  more  to  his  friend  Duroc, 
this  being  almost  impossible  except  at  night,  as 
the  Grand  Marshal  was  usually  very  busy. 

She  could  uot,  however,  understand  what  de¬ 
tained  Junot  so  long.  She  saw  him  disappear 
with  Duroc  soon  after  the  Emperor  withdrew, 
and  that  was  almost  an  hour  before.  They  must 
have  had  a  great  deal  to  talk  about. 

She  dismissed  her  maid,  and,  with  her  hands 

239 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

resting  liglitly  on  her  hips,  she  strolled  slowly 
to  and  Ito  through  the  large  room,  which  was 
dimly  lighted  by  two  candles  placed  in  front  of 
the  mirror  over  the  mantel.  As  she  drew  near 
the  mirror  to  straighten  one  of  the  candles,  she 
lifted  her  dress  a  little,  and  put  her  dainty  pink 
shoe  against  the  grate,  behind  which  the  embers 
were  slowly  dying. 

From  sheer  force  of  habit  Madame  Junot 
glanced  indifferently  into  the  mirror  and  ex¬ 
amined  her  evening  toilet.  Meeting  there  her 
own  innocent  gaze,  she  bent  involuntarily  nearer 
to  the  glass  and  examined  her  face  closely. 
“Ah,  yes;  why  not?  .  .  .  his  Majesty  has  good 
taste  ...”  And  for  the  hundredth  time  she 
thought  of  her  chat  with  Napoleon.  On  his 
side,  the  encounter  had  been  a  half-masked  at¬ 
tack  by  an  incomparably  superior  tactician.  On 
her  side,  she  had  boldly  foiled  his  advances  before 
he  could  accomplish  his  wish.  They  had  for  a 
moment  stood  eye  to  eye  with  crossed  foils,  like 
two  skilled  fencers.  They  had  both  dropped 
their  weapons  with  full  honors,  and  had  parted 
with  a  smile  and  a  compliment.  But  was  the 
conflict  settled  by  this  combat?  .  .  .  Ah!  the 
Emperor  had  many  weapons  in  his  arsenal,  and. 


240 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


like  an  experienced  victor,  he  would  surely  not 
sutfer  a  half  defeat.  During  the  evening  her 
glance  had  again  met  his  for  a  second,  and  Napo¬ 
leon  smiled  in  a  sarcastic  and  knowing  way;  but 
then  that  was  when  Junot  was  dancing  with  the 
Grand  Duchess  of  Berg. 

Out  in  the  anteroom  she  heard  her  husband 
give  some  orders  to  the  sleepy  valet,  and  imme¬ 
diately  after  she  greeted  him  at  the  open  door. 

^‘Ah,  you  are  still  awake,  Laurette  !  I  was 
almost  afraid  that  you  had  retired.” 

‘^No,  I  came  home  only  a  moment  ago — I 
could  not  get  away  before.”  And  they  walked 
side  by  side  to  his  large  traveling  bag,  which 
stood  upon  the  table  at  the  center  of  the  room, 
all  packed  and  arranged  for  his  departure. 

Junot  laid  his  hat  away,  and  stood  unbuck¬ 
ling  his  sword,  while  Laurette  absent-mindedly 
passed  her  fingers  over  the  metal  ornament  on 
the  bag.  For  a  moment  they  were  both  silent. 

“You  know  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  drive 
from  here  at  seven  o’clock  in  the  morning.  I 
am  compelled  to  be  at  Bayonne  at  the  end  of 
this  week.” 

“Yes.  .  .  .  Everything  is  ready,  so  far  as  I 
know.  I  heard  you  speak  to  Chapelle  ...” 


241 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

Junot  then  turned  a  little  hesitatingly  to  his 
wife,  and  gently  placed  his  arm  around  her  waist. 

‘‘Laura!”  .  .  . 

She  turned  toward  him,  and,  with  passionate, 
uncontrollable  anguish,  she  put  both  arms  around 
his  neck  and  threw  herself  upon  his  breast. 

“Laurette!  What  is  the  matter,  dearest  ?  It 
is  so  unlike  you  to  lose  your  courage.” 

“Yes,  yes;  but  do  not  mind  that,”  she  sobbed, 
trying  to  control  herself.  He  kissed  her  cheek 
and  neck,  and  tried  to  sooth  her.  Then  she 
suddenly  lifted  her  head  and  bent  far  back,  her 
hands  still  upon  his  shoulders,  and  said,  stub¬ 
bornly: 

“Why  am  I  so  stupid?  Why  should  you 
always  be  spared  ?  .  .  .  Yes,  I  am  unhappy — 
you  may  just  as  well  know  it.  I  am  desperate — 
almost  beside  myself  with  anxiety.  .  .  .” 

‘  ‘  Laurette,  now  listen  to  me.  I  swear  to  you 
that  I  never,  never  again  ...  do  you  under¬ 
stand  ?  ’  ’ 

“Ah,  it  is  not  that  alone,”  she  interrupted 
him,  impatiently,  as  she  half  turned  away.  ‘  ‘  I 
know  very  well  that  such  a  promise  does  not 
last  forever.  It  has  been  hard  enough  to  endure 
that  humiliation  during  this  whole  year.”  And 


242 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


she  sighed  as  she  gazed  absently  at  another 
scene  on  memory’s  page.  “Ah,  life  is  so  hope¬ 
lessly  complicated — so  difficult  to  live  !” 

“Pray,  don’t  turn  into  a  weeping  philoso¬ 
pher,  my  pigeon,”  he  said,  gaily,  with  an  at¬ 
tempt  at  joking.  “Life — why,  life  is  what  fate 
makes  it.” 

“Yes,  you  are  right;  and  the  Emperor,  he  is 
our  fate — yours,  and,  therefore,  mine.” 

“Laurette,”  he  pushed  her  away  from  him, 
“why  do  you  always  speak  in  such  a  tone  about 
him?  ” 

‘  ‘  I  speak  only  the  truth  !  ’  ’  she  exclaimed  im¬ 
petuously,  almost  recklessly.  “It  has  lately 
dawned  more  and  more  upon  me  that  we  are  no 
longer  the  free  and  independent  people  we  were 
some  years  ago,  but  merely  dolls  in  his  hands, 
souls  at  his  mercy.  Look  around!  It  is  not 
alone  you  and  I,  it  is  all  of  us.  Take  your  own 
case  as  an  example — think  how  you  have  been 
thrown  from  one  anxiety  to  another,  since  he 
came  home,  without  will  or  wish  of  your  own, 
defenseless.  .  .  .  His  anger  is  death,  his  smile 
life.  His  love — ah,  whom  does  he  love  now  ?  ”  .  .  . 

Junot  silently  paced  to  and  fro,  while  Laurette 
still  stood  at  the  table.  She  had  turned  toward 

243 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

him,  with  her  hands  behind  her,  and  leaned 
against  the  top  of  the  table,  her  feet  slightly  ex¬ 
tended. 

“  Consider,  Jnnot.  Would  the  thought  be 
possible  to  you,  even  though  he  wronged  yon 
most  bitterly,  to  break  a  new  path  and,  inde¬ 
pendent  of  him,  begin  a  new  life  ?  ’  ’ 

‘  ‘  Laurette  !  It  is  folly  for  you  to  talk  in  this 
manner!”  He  faced  her  impatiently  and 
stamped  his  foot  on  the  floor.  “  If  there  is  any¬ 
one  who  stands  close  to  him,  then  it  is  I,  and 
‘  independent  of  him  ’ — what  do  you  really  mean  ? 
The  one  who  wants  to  be  independent  of  him 
must  go  to  England,  or  across  the  ocean  ;  for 
here,  on  the  Continent” — he  laughed  bitterly 
but  triumphantly — ‘‘no  one  is  independent  of 
him.  What  folly  !  I  am  a  Frenchman,  and  he 
is  my  friend,  whom  I  have  voluntarily  made  my 
master — how  could  the  thought  ever  occur  to  me 
to  separate  my  life  from  his?  ” 

“Voluntarily?  Yes,  perhaps,  once!  But 
now  he  is  our  master,  and  no  vdll  but  his  is 
free.  ’  ’ 

Junot  walked  a  few  steps  over  the  floor,  and 
suddenly  lifted  his  head  and  brushed  the  hair 
away  from  his  forehead  with  a  weary,  impatient 


244 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


move  of  the  hand,  as  though  he  wished  to  get  rid 
of  his  own  thoughts.  Then  he  turned  to 
Laurette,  who  still  stood  in  the  same  position  at 
the  table. 

‘^Did  you  notice,  Laurette,  that  I  danced  to¬ 
night  with — with — ”  He  stopped,  regretting 
that  he  had  touched  upon  this  subject. 

“With  Princess  Caroline?  Oh,  yes,  I  saw 
it.” 

They  were  both  silent.  She  was  looking  stub¬ 
bornly  down  in  front  of  her  as  Junot,  stepping  to 
her,  took  her  around  the  waist  with  both  hands 
and  regarded  her  with  an  uncertain,  bashful 
smile  as  he  drew  her  toward  him. 

“Laurette,”  he  whispered  very  softly,  his  face 
close  to  hers,  “don’t  let  that  trouble  you  any 
longer;  it  is  all  over  now  !  ” 

She  shook  her  head.  “And  you  believe  that 
possible  ?  No,  my  dear,  a  drama  so  carefully 
planned  is  not  all  over  in  one  act !  ” 

‘  ‘  I  assure  you,  Laurette.  ’  ’  He  looked  into  her 
eyes,  speaking  a  little  louder. 

“Tut,  tut!  Can  you  not  understand  what  I 
mean?  We  are  now  compelled  to  take  our  parts 
in  the  play,  whether  we  will  or  not !  Can  you 
not  see  that  the  Emperor,  who  is  the  manager  of 


245 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

all  the  dramas  here,  has  laid  the  second  act  in 
Bayonne,  and  third  in  .  .  .  Ah,  how  do  I 
know  ?  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  it  !  ” 

“  Dearest  Laurette,  you  are  listening  too  much 
to  the  court  gossip,”  he  said,  a  little  sharply. 
“You  know  very  well  that  Napoleon  has  entirely 
different  reasons  for  entrnsting  the  Army  of  the 
Gironde  to  me.  ’  ’ 

“Ah,  yes,  of  course,  I  know  that.  He  is  a 
master  when  it  comes  to  combinations.  As  he 
himself  used  to  say,  he  really  knows  how  to 
derive  the  greatest  possible  gains,  even  from 
mistakes.” 

“Come,”  and  he  led  her  to  the  big  chair  by 
the  fireplace,  while  he  knelt  on  a  footstool  before 
her  and  put  his  arms  around  her  waist,  “let 
me  hear,  before  we  part,  everything  that  weighs 
upon  your  mind.” 

She  sighed.  “The  Observation  Army  at 
Gironde  is  called  your  division,  is  it  not  ?  Bnt 
the  Emperor  has  other  reasons,  you  say.  Ah  !  ” 
she  passionately  caressed  him — “you  may  say 
what  you  will;  I  know  that  down  there  a  danger 
awaits  you — a  greater  danger  than  you  have  ever 
confronted  before.  ’  ’ 

“Do  you  fear  for  my  life,  Laurette?”  He 


246 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


looked  up,  almost  surprised.  Wlio  is  it  whom 
I  have  so  often  seen  moved  to  tears  over  the  bul¬ 
letins  from  the  Grand  Army  ?  Who  was  it  who 
so  often,  in  proud  and  spirited  words,  has  called 
that  one  happy  who  was  privileged  to  meet  such 
an  honorable  and  noble  death  ?  It  was  only  two 
years  ago  that  I  had  to  hurry  away  from  you  at 
Lisbon  to  meet  Napoleon  in  Mahren,  but  you 
were  not  afraid  then.” 

‘^No,  not  then.  I  did  not  have  time  to  be¬ 
come  afraid  then.  Besides,  you  were  Napoleon’s 
First  Adjutant — I  knew  that  he  would  keep  you 
near  him.  Now  you  are  going  to  war  for  the 
second  time  since  I  have  been  your  wife,  and  I 
now  begin  to  realize  what  a  different  meaning 
this  parting  has  for  both  of  us.” 

“Realize  the  meaning!  You  cannot  realize 
the  meaning.  But  what  difference  does  it  make  ? 
The  earth  has  tasted  my  blood  so  often  in  the 
past.  .  .  .  Well,  if  I  have  to  die  on  the  field, 
a  year  or  two  sooner  or  later  .  .  .” 

“  Hush  !  ”  she  exclaimed,  despairingly.  “My 
God,  I  never  before  understood  what  war 
means !  ” 

“  Is  my  life  so  precious  to  you—  more  precious 
than  my  honor,  Laurette  ?  ’  ’ 


247 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

She  was  silent,  with  downcast  eyes  and  lips 
tightly  pressed  together. 

“Answer  me  !  Eemember,  you  are  the  wife 
of  a  French  soldier,”  he  said,  solemnly. 

She  lifted  her  eyes,  and,  as  she  gently  pushed 
him  away  from  her,  she  looked  at  him  with  a 
glance  that  he  never  forgot. 

“Your  honor  is  more  precious  to  me  than 
anything  in  the  world,  ’  ’  she  whispered,  almost 
inaudibly.  “Your  name  and  responsibility — 
as  soldier  and  chief  ...” 

“My  beloved!  That  is  the  courage  I  wish 
the  woman  to  show  who  shares  my  life.  And 
now — be  of  good  cheer  !  The  Emperor  has  been 
gracious  to  me  again;  he  is  my  friend.  I  leave 
you  behind  to  watch  over  our  interests;  and 
when  we  meet  again,  Laurette,  perhaps  I  shall 
carry  the  marshal’s  staff !  ” 

“  Ah,  that  staff  ...  I  believe  he  could  send 
you  down  into  the  abyss  by  simply  waving  it  at 
you  !  He  knew  what  he  was  doing  when  he  did 
not  give  it  to  you  before.  ’  ’ 

“Laurette!  .  .  .” 

“Don’t  I  like  Napoleon?  Don’t  I  admire 
him  more  than  any  one  ?  And  still  ...  let  me 
be  allowed  to  say,  once  for  all,  that  it  is  a  sin — 


248 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


yes,  a  sin — the  manner  in  which  he  has  stimu¬ 
lated  the  ambitions  of  you  all  to  this  dizzy 
height.  He  urges  you  on  like  hounds  after  the 
prey.” 

“But,  Laurette,  again  you  fail  to  realize  what 
you  are  saying,”  he  said,  tenderly. 

Madame  Junot  rose  silently,  and  for  a  few 
moments  she  walked  impetuously  to  and  fro. 
Suddenly  she  stopped  and  laid  the  backs  of  her 
hands  against  her  burning  cheeks,  as  if  to  cool 
them. 

‘  ‘  Don’ t  look  at  me  so  !  It  is  usually  you  who 
are  too  impetuous.  .  .  .  Oh,  you  will  be  open 
and  frank  with  me  in  your  letters — I  know  well 
enough  that  just  where  there  is  danger,  there 
the  Emperor  sends  a  man  like  you.  But  when 
the  conditions  become  too  bad  down  there — ah, 
I  know  Spain  and  Portugal  !  ” — he  made  a  ges¬ 
ture  of  surprise — “no,  do  not  look  so  scared;  no 
one  has  told  me  anything.  I  can  readily  guess 
that  an  army  w  hich  gathei's  at  Bayonne  is  to  be 
used  against  the  Peninsula.  I  don’t  need  to  be 
told  that  the  alliance  between  England  and  Por¬ 
tugal  is  the  question  of  the  hour,  nor  that  the 
hour  needs  you — you,  with  your  knowledge  of 
Portugal  and  of  the  Portuguese.  Don’t  appear 


249 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

so  astonislied,  Junot;  I  am  gifted  with  second- 
sight  whenever  you  are  concerned.  ...  I 
realize  the  terrific  dangers  ahead  of  you,  and 
before  you  reach  the  worst  of  them  I  am  coming 
to  you.  I  can  live  in  a  bivouac,  if  I  share  it 
with  you.  Bah,  these  frills  and  furbelows  !” 

With  a  movement  of  contempt  she  stripped 
the  bracelets  from  her  arms  and  threw  them 
rattling  on  the  floor,  adding  : 

“You  think  I  am  a  slave  to  all  this  luxury? 
No  more  than  Napoleon  or  you.” 

“  Laurette  !  ”  He  took  her  in  his  arms.  “You 
are  making  it  doubly  hard  for  me  to  leave  you.” 

“  Possibly;  but  I  demand  no  promises  of  you. 
I  ask  only  this:  that  in  the  moment  of  danger,  if 
you  think  of  any  woman,  let  your  thought  be  of 
no  one  but  me.  ’  ’ 

He  looked  admiringly  at  her  as  he  smiled 
proudly.  How  petty  were  all  other  women, 
even  the  most  exalted,  in  comparison  with  her. 

“  I  know  a  method  by  which  I  could  win  you 
completely.  If  I  should  make  you  live  in  eter¬ 
nal  anxiety,  and  in  constant  fear  of  losing  me, 
whom  you  now,  with  such  absolute  certainty, 
think  you  own  ...  If  I  should  arouse  your 
jealousy  .  .  .  Ah,  I  could  easily  do  it!”  she 


250 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


added,  defiantly,  and  spread  her  arms  out.  “I 
could  easily  do  it — if  I  wished  !  ’  ’ 

Juuot  turned  red  at  first,  then  deathly  pale. 

‘  ‘  So  it  is  true  ?  ”  he  murmured  in  a  choked 
voice.  “  So  it  is  true — these  insinuations  that  I 
hear  at  every  turn — the  gossip  that  whispers  into 
my  ears — that  he  .  .  .  that  the  Emperor?  ...” 

His  wife  did  not  answer.  She  simply  shook 
her  head,  without  looking  at  him.  She  was 
greatly  excited ;  her  cheeks  burned,  and  her 
lovely  bosom,  fair  as  the  purest  marble,  rose  and 
fell  with  the  tumult  of  her  feelings,  while  she 
tightly  grasped  the  arm  of  the  chair  with  both 
hands  and  looked  in  front  of  her  from  under  her 
knit  brow.  He  walked  slowly  up  to  her  and 
stood  in  front  of  her. 

'^Laurette,  look  at  me!  Will  you  let  me 
leave  you  with  this  wound  in  my  heart  ?  Is  it 
possible  that  he  .  .  .  ” 

^‘No;  listen  to  me.  I  tell  you  that  you  sus¬ 
pect  what  is  impossible,”  she  said,  harshly,  and 
looked  quickly  up.  “  But,  after  all,”  she 
shrugged  her  shoulders  scornfully — ‘‘of  what 
importance  is  friendships  among  men  when — ” 
He  guessed  her  thought.  “  I  have  never  been 
Murat’s  friend  !  ”  he  said,  hurriedly. 


251 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

She  did  not  answer,  a  sad  smile  passing  over 
her  lips. 

‘^Why  have  you  heaped  these  burning  coals 
upon  my  soul — now,  this  last  evening  ?  ’  ’  ex¬ 
claimed  Junot.  ‘‘I  know  that  you  have  often 
had  reasons  for  being  displeased  with  me;  but 
— ah,  but  this  is  an  entirely  different  mat¬ 
ter.  A  man’s  wrong-doings  can  easily  be  for¬ 
given — a  woman’s  never  !  If  I  thought  that 
you  .  .  .  Laurette  !  I  swear  to  you  that  not  for 
an  hour  could  I  survive  my  dishonor  and  .  .  . 
and — my  sorrow.  ’  ’ 

She  turned  her  head  a  little  as  she  sat  there 
leaning  against  the  high  back  of  her  chair,  and 
looked  up  at  him  with  her  large,  dark  eyes. 
Over  the  delicate  bow  of  the  stubbornly  closed 
mouth  there  passed  a  proud  smile. 

'‘Junot,  look  straight  at  me  !  Look  straight 
into  my  eyes  !  Do  I  look  like  a  wife  who  in¬ 
tends  to  deceive  her  husband  ?  You  are  unable 
to  say  ‘No’  to  Napoleon;  but  you  may  rest 
assured  that  I  can  utter  an  emphatic  '  No  ’ 
should  it  become  necessary.  My  mother  could, 
too.” 

He  fell  on  his  knees  in  front  of  her,  forcibly 
caught  both  her  arms,  and  buried  his  head  in 


252 


The  Governor’s  Wife 


her  lap.  When  he  again  lifted  his  head  his  eyes 
were  full  of  tears. 

“You  are  crying?  You!  Ah,  Junot,  I  knew 
that  you  loved  me,  in  spite  of  everything.  In 
such  matters  one  is  seldom  mistaken  when  one 
stands  as  near  her  husband  as  I  do  to  you. 
But  to  see  you  shed  tears  for  my  sake  ...” 

He  smiled  and  laid  her  cool  hands  upon  his 
moist  eyes.  He  took  her  head  between  his 
hands  and  caressed  her  cheeks,  her  neck,  and 
her  shoulders.  They  looked  at  each  other 
silently — tenderly.  They  saw  each  other  clearly 
for  the  first  time — a  man  and  a  woman — the  only 
ones  on  earth. 

“Laurette,”  he  whispered,  softly,  “you  com¬ 
plained  a  few  moments  ago  about  life.  Do  you 
not  feel  how  rich  it  is,  how  at  this  moment  it  is 
renewing  itself?” 

She  placed  her  finger-tips  upon  his  eyes  and 
forced  him  to  close  them;  she  was  blushing. 

For  a  few  minutes  they  sat  close  to  each  other 
in  silence.  Then  she  gently  freed  herself  from 
his  embrace,  smilingly  arose,  and  walked  a  few 
steps  toward  the  door.  She  stopped  suddenly, 
looked  around  with  beaming  eyes,  and  opened 
her  arms. 


253 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

‘^Beloved  Fontainebleau!”  sbe  whispered 
softly,  as  she  bent  her  head  back  and  closed  her 
eyes.  When  she  again  looked  up  she  met  her 
husband’s  glances. 

‘  ‘  Beloved  Fontainebleau,  I  shall  never  forget 
you.  Here  have  I  been  happy  !  ” 

Three  weeks  later  the  Army  of  the  Gironde 
crossed  the  Pyrenees,  and  the  momentous  war  in 
the  Peninsula  had  begun. 


THE  END 


254 


AUTHOR’S  NOTES 


HE  writer  has  not  called  this  book  a 
“Romance,”  for  it  did  not  seem,  after 
due  consideration,  to  be  well-formed 
and  connected  enough  to  deserve  so  dignified  a 
description.  These  “pictures,”  which  it  has 
been  her  pleasure  to  draw  during  her  idle  hours, 
she  has  grouped  about  Madame  Junot,  the 
Governor’s  wife,  and  has  given  them  the  name 
of  that  brilliant  and  lovable  peraonage. 

As  the  material  for  these  “pictures”  has  been 
gathered  from  Madame  Junot’ s  own  “Memoirs,” 
and  has  been  treated  from  lier  point  of  view,  the 
book  has  a  right  to  carry  her  name.  While  the 
“Memoirs”  have  naturally  been  the  special 
source  of  information,  they  are  far  from  having 
been  the  only  source.  On  the  one  hand,  some 
episodes,  such  as  Princess  Pauline’s  visit,*  the 
home-coming  from  Malmaisou,f  and  the  recep- 

t  Pages  88-84. 


•  Pages  57-63. 


265 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

tion  of  Princess  Catherine  at  Eaincy — these  all 
follow  Madame  Junot’s  narrative  very  closely. 

On  the  other  hand,  many  of  the  chapters  are 
pxu'e  fiction,  built  upon  familiar  incidents  and 
developed  along  the  line  of  motives  that  are  his¬ 
torical.  The  writer,  in  following  such  a  course, 
has  committed  many  slight  anachronisms,  and  in 
many  cases  drawn  the  knot  of  intrigue  closer 
than  the  circumstances  warranted;  yet  it  is  often 
a  question  in  life  as  to  what  is  fact  and  what 
fiction — as  to  the  point  at  which  imagination 
leaves  off  and  the  vulgar  happening  begins. 

For  a  thorough  understanding  of  the  personal 
relations  between  General  and  Madame  Junot, 
which  forms  naturally  the  groundwork  of  this 
presentation  of  their  characters,  the  writer  has 
been  also  greatly  aided  by  their  private  corre¬ 
spondence,  with  which  she  has  had  an  exceptional 
opportunity  to  make  herself  familiar  through 
the  kindness  of  their  granddaughter,  the  Duchess 
of  Abrantes.' 

These  letters,  which  are  now  faded  and  yellow 
with  age,  were  written  almost  daily  during 
fatiguing  marches  from  country  to  country,  in 
barracks,  in  the  midst  of  siege,  from  many  a 
battle-field.  They  are  some  of  the  most  original 


256 


Author’s  Notes 


and  poetical  documents  of  the  times;  for  Junot 
possessed  a  chivalrous  and  poetical  nature,  which 
gave  itself  free  and  unconscious  literary  expres¬ 
sion  in  these  unrestrained  letters  to  his  wife. 
No  one  could  fail  to  appreciate  the  strength  and 
sincerity  of  the  deep,  true  love  which  these  two 
richly  endowed  people  felt  for  each  other,  in 
spite  of  the  difficulties  inseparable  from  their 
position. 

Her  various  studies  have  led  the  writer  to  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  most  of  the  famous  French 
ladies  of  the  days  of  Napoleon.  With  none  of 
them  has  she  felt  the  sympathy,  and  for  none  of 
them  the  affection  by  which  she  is  drawn  to 
Madame  Junot,  who  is  everywhere  and  always 
a  ‘•‘femme  maitresse,’^  as  Napoleon  called  her 
mother.  Hers  was  a  brave,  proud  nature,  and 
her  manner  was  that  of  an  aristocrat. 

Madame  Junot  took  the  world  but  as  the 
world,  in  a  very  matter-of-fact  wa^  quite  free 
from  illusions — a  thorough  Gallic  disposition 
which  one  never  finds  in  young  people  outside  of 
France,  and  even  there  but  seldom.  At  the  same 
time,  however,  she  had  a  keen  sensibility  of  per¬ 
ception,  and  a  faculty  for  love  and  hatred  which 
few  people  possess  in  so  high  a  degree.  Yet  she 


257 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

was  always  loyal  and  faithful  to  the  proud  period 
to  which  she  belonged  by  name  and  birth. 

In  the  beautiful  poem  which  Victor  Hugo 
wrote  to  her,  he  said: 

Car  j'ai  ma  mission !  Car  arme  d’une  lyre, 

Plein  d’hymnes  irritis,  ardents  d  s'epancher, 

Je  garde  les  tresors  des  gloires  de  V Empire. 

Je  n'ai  jamais  souffert  qu'on  osat  y  toucher. 

His  words  applied  as  well  to  the  lady  to  whom 
he  sung  as  to  himself.  Junot’s  widow  sits  by 
day  and  night  as  a  jealous  watcher  over  the 
memories  of  the  Empire.  She  never  tires  of 
pointing  to  the  proud  monuments  which  it  raised 
for  itself,  and  she  ever  defends  and  praises  it. 
Even  when  the  Emperor,  embittered  by  his  own 
misfortune,  wounded  her  so  deeply  with  his 
harsh  criticism  in  his  “Memoirs,”  she  did  not 
change  her  attitude  in  the  least.  She  still  ex¬ 
claimed:  “  Avec  lui  toutes  les  routes  Maient  bordies 
de  lauriers,  avec  lui  vien  n’etait  amer  !” 

Madame  Junot’s  “Memoirs”  are  least  satisfac¬ 
tory  in  the  matter  of  historical  correctness.  She 
evidently  had  but  little  sense  for  dates,  and  very 
little  for  arrangement;  she  mixes  carelessly  hap¬ 
penings  and  epochs,  and  sometimes  even  names; 
her  statements  should  always  be  compared 


258 


Author’s  Notes 


with  those  of  other  authorities.  She  herself  ad¬ 
mits  that  she  was  never  in  the  habit  of  rereading 
what  she  had  written.  And  still,  how  trust¬ 
worthy  are  these  “Memoirs,”  how  true  their  sen¬ 
timent  and  feeling  !  Few  have  to  such  a  degree 
as  she  understood  how  to  paint  in  words  their 
times  and  the  people  of  their  times.  Her  de¬ 
scription,  for  instance,  of  Bonaparte  as  youth  and 
young  man  is  exceptionally  fine.  Bourriennes’ 
description  of  Napoleon  at  the  same  time  is 
neither  so  lifelike  nor  rich. 

Madame  Junot’s  description  of  Napoleon  has 
often  been  compared  with  Madame  de  E6musat’s. 
But  careful  investigation  has  shown  that  Madame 
de  E6musat  was  not  worthy  of  the  absolute  con¬ 
fidence  which  many  authors — among  them  even 
Taine — have  had  in  her. 

The  thousands  of  pages  which  Madame  Junot, 
in  her  careless,  nonchalant  manner,  has  written 
about  the  time  of  the  Directorate,  the  Consulate, 
the  Empire,  and  the  Eestoration  scarcely  form 
a  “book;”  they  are,  rather,  a  collection  of 
sketches  and  dialogues  —  sometimes  fact  and 
sometimes  fiction.  There  are  dry,  disconnected 
notes,  piquant  anecdotes,  satirical  sallies,  pa¬ 
thetic  outpourings  of  her  heart,  and  passionate 


250 


The  Governor’s  Wife 

accusations  and  confessions — all  stored  away  with 
aristocratic  carelessness  and  confusion  in  this 
great  portfolio.  But  in  this  portfolio,  rich  in 
material,  all  must  study  and  search  who  are  in¬ 
terested  in  the  France  of  the  end  of  the  eigh¬ 
teenth  and  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Of  the  thousands  of  sheets  into  which  she  has 
broken  the  mirror  of  her  time  you  will  find  in 
each  piece  a  picture  of  a  rare  woman — Madame 
Junot  herself. 

‘‘Often  an  eagle,  always  an  angel,”  says 
Victor  Hugo  of  Laura  Junot.  Not  always!  She 
was  simply  one  of  the  best-poised  and  sanest 
women  of  the  Empire,  and  as  such  she  will  ever 
appear  in  the  dickering  light  of  time.  If  we 
cannot  always,  with  Victor  Hugo,  detect  “her 
noble  wings,”  at  any  rate  we  know  that  she 
always  had  her  little  feet  firmly  placed  on  the 
ground.  Neither  in  ecstasy  nor  in  the  bitter¬ 
ness  of  sorrow  and  despair  did  her  clear  spirit 
ever  lose  its  balance,  and  often  she  let  her  noble 
wings  faU  with  a  Parisian  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 

If  any  one  thinks  that,  in  the  intrigue  of  this 
book,  there  is  laid  too  much  weight  on  gloire  and 
carrQre,  let  them  turn  to  the  history  of  France  in 
1807.  That  was  the  proud  year  of  power,  honor, 
260 


Author’s  Notes 


and  triumph;  and  that  was  the  time  of  the 
“secret  articles”  of  the  Peace  of  Tilsit,  which 
were  dictated  by  a  semigod,  and  were  accepted 
by  an  autocratic  enthusiast.  Every  event  was 
written  with  the  heart-blood  of  the  French  nation. 

At  that  period  politics  were  a  romance,  excit¬ 
ing  beyond  all  others,  and  there  was  neither 
dreamed  nor  lived  a  romance  which  did  not 
begin  and  end  in  politics.  For,  as  Thiers  some¬ 
where  says  about  him  who  was  the  all-powerful 
master  and  dictator  of  the  times:  “  Onfaisait 
alors  la  politique  avec  ses  passions  !  ” 


261 


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Date  Due 


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M2 5 40 


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